Playing With Fire
by Pinkster Lily
Summary: Having set fire to her school,Renee sends Bella from their home in Italy to Forks.Expecting idiots,she instead finds Alice,an artist tormented daily by both students and memories.Can they lower defenses long enough to let each other in? ABUSE/SELF-HARM
1. Prelude

_**Summary:**__ After setting fire to her school, Renee sends Bella from their home in Italy with Giorgio, her stepfather, to Forks to live with Charlie. Expecting idiots, she instead finds Alice, an artist tormented daily by both students and memories. Can both lower their defenses long enough to let each other in? Abuse, self-mutilation_

Playing With Fire

By: Vixen Hood

Prelude

"You like to pretend you are a bitchy little rebel, willing to sleep around with whoever will have you, because you don't know anything else. You use your body to get what you want because you know it will work, because you know you are beautiful. You know what I think? I think—no, I _know—_that you are just a broken little girl inside who desperately wishes that someone would love her, and goes about having all these little trysts hoping that one day you will just stumble upon love and suddenly you'll know what it is. Only, you can't recognize it once you come across it. Well, I'm done with this little charade, this _fucking lie_.

"I _see_ you, I see you for who you really are. _Le veo y te amo_. _I love you._ Do you not understand that? I can't put it for you any simpler than that. You taught me that. You taught me to see and love and understand _you_, Bella. _You._ The hell you are running away from me."

Alice's dark hair was getting into her eyes, and I wanted to reach out to touch the streak of red in it, to push it out of her eyes, to run my hands through it, but restrained myself. She was mad, pissed, furious, and I had made her that way. Suddenly her lips were upon mine, forceful as she gripped my hair and yanked me towards her. She took advantage of our intimate position on the bed and pushed me down, never disconnecting our lips, and straddled my lap.

Her hair tickled my cheeks and her lips tasted like honey. Her hips rocked sensuously against mine and I was reminded of our time together, of our discoveries together.

She tore away from me, panting. I looked up at her flushed face as my chest heaved in much needed air and watched as she climbed off of me, running a hand through her hair and slipping on her shoes.

"Come find me when you are ready to love me back."

And then she was gone, and I was alone.


	2. Chapter One: Fucking Forks

_Hope that you enjoy this chapter. I was astonished by the amount of people who added this story to their alert list. Thanks! I fear that I will not be able to update for at least a few days. Don't forget to review! They just make my day!_

Chapter One:

Fucking Forks

"ISABELLA MARIE SWAN!"

I rolled my eyes at the unnecessary use of my full name.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU _THINKING?_ THIS IS IT! I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR ATTITUDE AND YOUR FRIENDS AND ALL THE SHIT THAT YOU'VE DONE! THIS IS _IT!_" my mother, Renee, roared, blue eyes blazing with unconcealed anger. I wouldn't back down, though. Never was I known to forefgo a fight. Adrenaline pulsed in my veins at the thought.

I tugged a hand through my tangled and damp brown hair, thoroughly disgusted with how dirty it felt. I watched with disinterest as Renee stormed into the living room of our large home in Volterra, following her as she kicked one of the coffee tables over in her fury. Glass shards skittered across the tile of the room, decorating the red-brown surface with shards of light that reflected onto the ceiling. Giorgio, my disgusting and perverted step-father just watched with a slight smile from his place in the corner of the room as Renee and I went at each other, violently lashing out with words hastily gathered from three different languages and just barely resisting from ripping out each other's throats. He was _enjoying_ this.

"So what are _you_ doing to fucking do?" I screamed, practically hissing and spitting as I tore at my long hair in frustration and fury, spinning around towards the door before thinking better of it. Leaving would get me nowhere, something I had learned before. This fucking issue would only come up again and again until it was resolved to Renee's satisfaction, never mind what I wanted. For once, I decided I might as well face my raging mother as she went upon another of her tirades. "What the fuck are you going to do?"

"WHAT I AM GOING TO DO?" she screeched, pacing across the floor of the living room. I secretly hoped she'd step on the fucking glass she broke. I had given her that fucking vase as a fucking birthday present last year.

The bitch.

And no matter how much she insisted that this place was my fucking home, it wasn't. My home was in Spain with _mi __abuelo_, this place could never be home, so long as _he_ was here. Sick bastard. _Mi padrastro_ my ass.

"Oh, I'll tell you what I'm going to do," she said in a dangerously quiet voice. I knew then that whatever the hell it was, it would not be good for me. I refused to let the fear run through me, I wouldn't give her the fucking satisfaction of my fear. What was the worst she could do? Trap me inside my room? Take away my cigarettes? I had more stashed away. She was fighting a losing battle.

"I think it's time you visit your father."

I exploded. "WHAT?" I screamed, my ears pounding and heart racing. "No, you can't fucking send me there! Are you fucking insane?"

Renee was babbling to herself in French, her native tongue, while glancing all around the room. "You've left me no choice, Bella," she finally said, still speaking in French.

I knew that Giorgio could understand what was being said simply because French and Italian were so similar, even if he was only getting the basics.

"Between the drinking, drugs, and all the other _crap_ that you've done, I can't take it anymore. This is the last straw. _Drinking while driving. Harming yourself. Attacking students at school. Skipping school._ And now this! _Setting fire to a school building?_ I get that you legally can drink and smoke and do everything else at your age, but this is it. You're not safe. Maybe a little quality time in Forks with your father will straighten you out, because Lord knows that I've tried everything." Renee seethed and shook her head, running a hand through her short hair.

The bitch couldn't even look at me.

I huffed, this couldn't happen. I had a life here in Volterra, along with my friends. Aro, Marcus, and everyone else were the only people who understood me, the only ones who cared that Giorgio was such a sick, perverted bastard. And I was going to be stranded with _Americans_ in fucking Forks, the center of small-town American ignorance.

Well, fuck.

* * *

"Alright, kiddo, your mother told me about everything that has happened over the past few years, and I want to let you know that while you're here I won't hold any of it against you, but if you do break any laws while here, I won't stand for it."

My father, Charlie, had come to pick me up at the airport in Port Angeles when my plane had landed, and now we were on the outskirts of Forks. Stupid, disgustingly cold _Forks_. I hadn't been here since I was ten, when I had put up a huge fight and finally got Charlie to compromise with me and met me in Florida. I hated Forks with a passion, ever since some of the kids made fun of my accent when I was five while visiting Charlie.

Even now, I knew the students at the high school I was being forced to attend would still be as ignorant as they had been seven years ago when I last saw them. I probably wouldn't even be able to ditch school because this town was so small Charlie would hear about it in a fucking heartbeat.

I still couldn't believe that Renee had sent me here, of all places, to live. She hated Forks just as much as I did, and I didn't understand why she didn't just fucking send me to Spain or France to live with her now separated parents. Sure, I drank, I skipped school, hell, I even had a few other problems that were not exactly small, but this was overkill.

"And, remember you're not in Europe anymore. You're seventeen—people can't smoke here until their eighteen or drink until their twenty-one. You do either, I'll arrest you."

I glanced over at Charlie, trying to imagine what my mother had seen in him when they had met almost twenty years ago. She had come to Seattle as a foreign exchange student for college, and Charlie had been in the building across the street finishing his police training. Charlie was your typical American boy who had fallen for the lovely Renee Flores, the daughter of a Spanish university teacher and a French singer. Of course, Renee was beautiful and before long she and Charlie were married. They had me and soon after that, Renee took me and left to Spain where her father was living. We lived with him until Renee met Giorgio.

Giorgio was scum, simply put. I didn't give a flying fuck if he had a steady job and was good to Renee, he treated me like crap. Of course, Renee was too blinded by her 'love' for him to notice anything askew, which made me hate both of them even more. Before I was seven, we had moved to Italy and I had started school again there, amongst all the Italian speakers who made fun of me because I spoke Spanish. I had met a few children who were actually kind to me—Aro and Marcus—who didn't care that my Italian was broken and half the time I spoke Spanish to them. With them, I had blossomed. It was only because of Giorgio that I rebelled. That sick, sick bastard.

"Bella?"

I snapped back to the present, turning to look at Charlie. I would never tell him this because it would hurt his feelings, but I hated how Americans said my name. Bell-la. The _e_ was too short and the _l-a_ was too sharp, too sudden. I missed how people in Italy and Spain said my name, _Bel-lah._ When it was said like that, it rolled so beautifully. The _e_ was deep and sensuous, the harmony of the _l_ and _a_coming together at the end melodious. English was so harsh and ugly in comparison to my languages, though I had three of them. I was most comfortable with Spanish (something Aro had always understood and had learned for me), but I spoke Spanish and Italian the best, and then French, from my long summers in the French countryside with _ma_ _grand-__mère_. English was the language I had the most trouble with, my conjugations of the verbs choppy and pronunciations of the harsh consonants that were often put into a word two or three together, poor.

"¿Sí, papá?" Charlie looked a little disconcerted for a moment before he answered me.

"Bella, I know this is going to be hard for you. Don't let the kids get to you, okay?"

The underlying message: _Don't burn any buildings with them inside._

I looked over at him, taking in his hopeful face and sighing quietly, willing to humor Charlie, if for a little while. He really wanted this to work for me, and I couldn't feel right about hating him until he actually _did_ something to me. Wow, Bella. You actually do have morals. "Yes, I promise."

Charlie smiled, patting my shoulder awkwardly. It was then that I noticed we had arrived at the house, its familiar red brick driveway and too-fucking-green trees almost like a different world. I climbed out of Charlie's police cruiser, sighing again as I went around the trunk and Charlie helped me bring the suitcases inside the house. While we did this, he explained to me how he still hadn't straightened out the problem of me driving legally here, but hoped to have it cleared up in a few days. So, either I could walk the mile to school for this week, or I could get a ride in Charlie's black and white police car that had flashing lights on top. Obviously, I chose to walk.

Charlie showed me to my old room and left me to unpack my things, something I was highly grateful for. Renee would have stuck around to try to talk to me as I was attempting to get settled, something I was _never_ in the fucking mood for.

It was still early in the day here because I had taken a flight in the dark hours of the morning from Rome to Chicago, and then took a connecting flight to Seattle. After that, it was yet another forty-five minutes on a third plane to Port Angeles. In the end, I had spent about fifteen hours in a plane, and I was both tired and hungry. I knew Charlie wouldn't begrudge me for wanting to sleep, but I didn't want to retreat to my room without saying something to him. I may hate being here and all, but it wasn't his fault. Plus, if he told Renee that things were working out for me here, then I might be able to go back to Italy before summer.

I smiled slightly to myself as I imagined the scene of Italy in the summer. It would truly be wonderful.

After taking a quick shower and changing into a pair of pajamas, I walked carefully down the stairs, not wanting to end up in a hospital before I had even been here a full day. I could hear Charlie watching television in the living room, and I decided to eat something before I went to sleep. My stomach was growling the whole time I was making the ham and cheese sandwich, making horribly embarrassing noises that I was glad no one but I could hear. Charlie's kitchen was in serious need of restocking.

Just as I sat down at the table to begin eating my food, the phone began to ring. I was tempted to ignore it, seeing as I had a much more pressing matter at hand, but was forced to get up when Charlie asked me to answer it. Grumbling, I marched over to it and reminded myself yet again that I had to be civil while here, simply because I wanted to go home as soon as possible.

"Papá," I called down the hall when I reached the awful ringing contraption, "I say 'hello,' yes?" My English courtesies were a little rusty.

"Swan Residence," Charlie called back, sounding distracted.

I turned back to the obnoxious telephone, picking up the receiver and saying, "Hello, Swan Resident." I knew I had miss pronounced that horribly, but I didn't care.

"_Bella._" Never would I forget the rich rumbling of that voice, so beautiful as it said my name.

I screamed in excitement, the happiest I had been since two weeks ago, before I had found out I was being sent here. "¡Abuelo! ¿Cómo está usted?" I asked eagerly, wanting to talk to my grandpa, _mi_ _abuelo_. He was the only one who had really put up a fight against Renee's decision. I continued in Spanish, wanting to tell him about how miserable this place was. "Abuelo, it's so awful here. It's freezing and wet and too _green_. _Muy verde._"

_Mi abuelo _laughed, the sensuous sound calming. _"I know, I know. I wish I could have stopped her from sending you there, but she wouldn't listen to reason."_

I nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see me. "_Me gustaria que estuvieras aqui__._ It is so boring."

He laughed again, his deep voice resonating. _"But, my darling, you have only been there what, an hour now?"_

"Exactly."

I could tell my abuelo was shaking his head, even if I couldn't see him. _"You never know, Bella. I know you don't like it there, but you might find something of interest."_

"I doubt that."

He chuckled, and we continued to chat until he told me that he had to go, it was dinner time there. I smirked, thinking about how he was eating dinner, while I was going for a breakfast/lunch combination at the moment. We hung up, and I went back to my sandwich. It wasn't too warm yet, so it was still good. I was nevertheless in a bad mood, even if it was lightened by the fact that _my abuelo _had called. I still couldn't get past the fact that Renee had sent me here, of all places. I could have gone to live with _mi Abuelo_, or _ma Grand- mere_, or even Renee's siblings, most of which were scattered throughout Europe and the UK. But she had sent me to Charlie, and the reason was not lost upon me. Charlie was a _police officer_. If anyone could keep me 'in line' it would be him. Plus, she knew how much I hated Forks and the Americans that lived in it. This was her rubbing my face in my failure.

I said good night to Charlie without even having to go into the living room, simply calling it from the stairs before I closed my bedroom door and curtains, collapsing onto my bed.

* * *

Due to me blacking out on my bed at ten thirty in the morning, when I woke up, it was dark and I had a throbbing headache. I could hear the rain pounding on the roof as I sat up in bed and threw off the black sheets. I was intensely surprised that I had been able to sleep so long. Rarely was I able to get a full night's sleep, as the insomnia that plagued me on a regular basis and the nightmares were enough to keep me awake the entire night most of the time. I stumbled over to the window—always graceful—and pulled back the curtains.

Although it was clearly dark outside, I still could see quite well. My bedroom window faced the street and my walls were dark purple in color. Correction, three were dark purple and one was black. Looks like Charlie decided to go more with my sense of décor instead of Renee's. Better not tell her, or she'd be hissing for a month.

I walked over to my bed, pulling out the box of cigarettes and the lighter I had smuggled with me in my suitcase. Of course, Renee wasn't that stupid. She had checked my luggage and carry-on items for all paraphernalia that she deemed shouldn't be taken with me. That included cigarettes (though technically I was old enough to smoke, even if it was only in Europe), drugs, lighters (you know, in case I decided to burn the school down, though I could do that with matches, too), alcohol, and any form of sharp metal items that were not the one razor I took to shave my legs.

However, after Renee had checked all my bags and deemed what I so lovingly called Operation Send Bella Into Exile (or OSBIE) a go, I claimed I had to go to the bathroom and took out my secret stash of cigarettes, a lighter, and a knife, placing them into my bag and leaving the house. Renee was too naïve to notice a thing.

First order of operation: burn the List.

The List was something Renee had given me. The List was comprised of all the things I was not allowed to do. I hated the list.

I took the List out of the back pocket of my traveling clothes, unfolding the heavily creased paper to read it one last time so I could watch it burn with true pleasure. It was just light enough in my room to read the scrawling handwriting of that belonged to Renee. It was entirely in Italian, something I was sure she only did to piss me off. Ever since she had married the scumbag that was Giorgio, she nearly always spoke and wrote in Italian. And I hated it. The only reason I really used the language at all was because of school. Aro didn't even make me speak it, being the darling that he was. He almost always spoke Spanish, simply for my happiness.

I glared at the words on the page as I read them.

_Rules_

_1. Listen to what your father says._

_2. No swearing (in ANY language)._

_3. No smoking._

_4. No drugs. Period._

_5. No skipping school._

_6. No speeding._

_7. No drinking._

_8. No setting fire to the school, the houses, or anything else. Or people._

_9. No self-mutilation._

_10. Don't call or in any way contact your "Volturi" friends._

Well, shit. I'll just be a good little girl then. Should have been called "Bella's Ten Commandments," because it might as well have fucking been that. Trust Renee to go all 'religious references' on me in a list. Renee was supposedly a devout Catholic, because supposedly Giorgio was (what a lie).

I crumpled the List in my fist, gritting my teeth and taking in a deep breath. Aro, our friends, and I called ourselves the Volturi, a play on the name of the city we lived in. Sure, we were all drinking and smoking before we legally were able to, and we did drugs occasionally. Whatever. It wasn't that big of a deal. As for the self-harm…that was a different story. It wasn't the Volturi's fault, really. That was all on my dear _padrastro_,Giorgio.

I smoothed out the List, grabbing the lighter from the drawer of my nightstand and a bowl I had snuck up from the kitchen. Opening my window so some air would dilute the smell of smoke and not set off the fire alarm, I sat down on the wooden floor cross-legged and set the List, bowl, cigarettes, and lighter before me on the floor, the bowl in the middle. The cigarettes I pushed off to the side and I picked up the List in my left hand, the lighter in my right.

With a flick of my thumb, a flame sprang to life and flickered, giving off a dim orange glow in the semi-dark room. I brought it up to the List, watching with satisfaction as the corner of the List began to burn. I let the flame of the lighter go, instead favoring the brighter light of the burning list. I let it drop into the ceramic bowl, smirking. To cement my broken deal with Renee, I opened the pack of cigarettes and took one out, lighting it in the blaze created by the List and sucking the smoke into my lungs happily.

When I was almost done with the cigarette and the fire in the bowl was out, I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt and touched the smoldering end of the cigarette to the exposed flesh of my inner arm.

I hissed contentedly, pressing the burning end deeper into the skin and sighing as I felt the familiar wave of pleasure roll over me, a fucking blessing along with setting something on fire and smoking after being watched like a hawk for the past two weeks. I wouldn't even call it self-mutilation, because if I was bringing bliss to my body, then how could it be harm? The long silver lines and round circles were beautiful in their simplicity, the patterns that they created across my skin so intricate.

Oh yes, Renee. Rules 2, 3, 8, and 9 broken, all in the span of one day. This was going to be pathetically easy.

I reached for the cordless house phone on my nightstand, about to shatter Rule 10 into a million pieces.

Victory, even if it is after being defeated, is sweet.

_Review and let me know what you guys think!_

_Signed,_

_V_

_Mi padrastro – Spanish for "My step-father."_

_grand-__mère – French for grandmother_

_¿__Sí, papá? – Spanish for "Yes, dad?"_

_¡Abuelo! ¿Cómo está usted? – Spanish for "Grandpa! __How are you?"_

_Muy verde. – Spanish for "Very green."_

_Me gustaria que estuvieras aqui. – Spanish for "I wish you were here."_


	3. Chapter Two: As Harmless As a Butterfly

_I think I'm going to start going for shorter chapters simply because it would take too long for me to write semi-long ones, what with everything I have to do with school._

_Don't forget to review!_

Chapter Two:

As Harmless As a Butterfly

I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed when Charlie came in that morning. The clock next to the bed said that it was about seven in the morning, six hours since my moment of bliss with the cigarette. Charlie's face twisted into one of shock as he took in my alert figure on the bed.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, stopping in the doorway and not daring to come any closer, seeming to pick up on the hostility emanating from me.

I was somewhat happy for once—and immensely territorial about my space. No one ever came into my room unless they wanted to have me kick their ass. "I was just coming in to wake you up. You don't have to go to school until tomorrow, but I wanted to get you a cell phone in case of an emergency. Do you want to come?"

I knew this fucking scheme well—it was where the parental figure tried to get you out of the house before you set fire to it, too. Charlie had nothing to worry about, though. It was Renee that I was fucking pissed at, not him. But I guess he was still concerned that I might take my anger out on his home.

I sighed, slightly annoyed, and shoved my sarcastic remark to the back of my mind. If I was nice, then maybe Charlie wouldn't watch me like a hawk. "Sure," I said at last, forcing a smile that I hoped wasn't too transparent. "Just let me get dressed."

Charlie looked relieved as he shut the bedroom door. As soon as I was sure he was downstairs and out of earshot, I gritted my teeth and turned to the wall, my fist flying through the air before I even realized it. I smiled, panting heavily as a good portion of my fury was unleashed onto the poor wall by my fist. As childish as it was, I felt better after punching the wall. I leaned in to inspect the damage I had inflicted on the plaster.

Good, not too noticeable of a dent. Charlie wouldn't notice unless he entered the room, which he wouldn't. And if he did…well, too bad for him. It's not my house.

I sighed again, feeling as if a huge weight was lifted off of my chest and stood, examining my red knuckles for any damage. I was happy that the walls in this house were simply plaster instead of the brick that comprised the walls of my room in Italy. I still had minor scrapes from punching the walls there, along with small scars that were barely noticeable on my pale skin.

It took no time at all for me to pull on a pair of jeans and a white thermal with a black shirt that was on top of the pile of clothes in my drawer. I yanked at my hair with a brush in an attempt to tame it and then brushed my teeth, not really hungry.

I knew that if Renee hadn't already told Charlie to force feed me, she would very soon and I wasn't looking forward to that. I didn't like eating, it was gross, and the gnawing pain that the hunger caused felt so wonderful. I was skinny, but I didn't have a problem. Renee liked to overreact to everything.

I glanced at the mirror in the bathroom that Charlie and I would have to share, making sure I looked somewhat presentable. My long brown hair was a little messy, but tamed as much as it ever would be. I was pale, far paler than any person who lived within an hour from the beach should be. It was the French in me, I guess. I had dark circles from too many sleepless nights that seemed to be tattooed onto my skin and my large brown eyes were as large and brown as ever. I bit my lip, dissatisfied with the girl in the mirror.

I turned away, but not before seeing the shirt I had thrown on. The black t-shirt was the one I had bought in Spain last year, the caption _"Besa mi culo"_ written in beautiful, swirling cursive. I was suddenly glad that Charlie couldn't speak Spanish, even if it did annoy the fucking hell out of me that I had to speak fucking English all the time around him. The words _"Kiss my ass"_ might have pushed him over the edge.

The drive to the phone store in the center of Forks was an uneventful one. There was nothing except trees and green and houses for the most part, very boring. No children were outside, partly because it was a school day, partly because it was a cold winter day. A light drizzle collected on the windshield and windows of the cruiser, distorting the gray and green of the outside foliage with little dots.

I leaned back in the passenger's seat, placing my converse clad feet on the dashboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie send me a disapproving look, but he said nothing.

I slouched down in the seat, desperately wishing I could smoke the cigarette I had put in my pocket with my lighter before leaving the house, but I couldn't do anything until I was out of Charlie's sight. I had a tight feeling in my chest, one I knew could only be relieved by punching something or smoking. And, as I knew that punching something, or someone, was not really an option right now, smoking was what was left.

Honestly, it wasn't the nicotine that made me feel better—it was the simple act of breathing in and out at a calm, slow pace. Maybe also because I associated smoking with Aro, and Aro was the closest thing I had to a friend.

When we got to the small shopping center, I took a look around, taking in the foreign look of the small shops and brand new grocery store. The cell phone store was new, too, and looked equally as boring as the rest of this fucking dreadful town. I left Charlie inside the phone store after randomly picking out one of the phones, walking outside and leaning against the wall.

The parking lot of the shopping center was empty except for Charlie's and the employee's cars, making me smirk. I was happy that I could smoke without too much worry about being caught.

I pulled out the cigarette out of my pocket, letting it dangle between my lips as I dug out the lighter. Another click, and a flame was hovering over the metal of the lighter. Once the cigarette was lit, I let the flame go out and stuck the lighter back in my pocket. I glanced up at the grey sky. It didn't look like it was going to start pouring anytime soon, but you could never be certain in Forks.

I took a long drag from the cigarette, pulling it from my mouth and letting the smoke out in one long column that was quickly distorted by the softly blowing wind. I glanced around, looking for something of interest to look at, but knowing I wouldn't find anything.

A flicker of motion caught my eye, but I couldn't be sure if it was just the wind. I narrowed my eyes in the direction of the large tree across the parking lot, watching it carefully for any sign of movement.

There! Again, there it was, something was moving in one of the higher branches of the tree, swinging back and forth upside down. Now that I saw him, I didn't know how I could have missed seeing him hanging from his knees in the tree. He had strange red-brown hair and was just as pale as everyone else in this town. I wasn't sure, but I thought he could be tall if he had both feet on the ground. He was wearing a long sleeved black shirt and jeans, with black converse on his feet. So the people here weren't totally fashion deprived.

Nature Boy continued to swing back and forth on the branch, his shocking red hair—which I could see even from my position across the lot—standing up from his head and arms hanging limply in the air, making him look quite comical. I just watched him with mild amusement while puffing on my cigarette as he continued to hang there. I was too far away to tell if his eyes were closed, but I was almost positive they were.

It was then that Charlie decided to come outside to check on me.

I hadn't realized Charlie was coming in time to stamp out my cigarette, and he yanked it from my fingers, throwing it on the ground and stomping on it with his heavy boot as he yelled at me, demanding to know if I had more and if I did, where they were. It wasn't really a lie when I told him I didn't have another cigarette, because honestly I didn't. They were all at home under the bed in an old shoebox I had found with the other stuff I wasn't supposed to have.

Charlie quickly herded me to the cruiser, his hand gripping my upper arm in typical police fashion. I was just lucky he didn't seat me in the back, instead allowing me to sit in the passenger's seat again. I leaned back, putting my feet up on the dashboard again and ignoring Charlie's angry glare.

It was awkward sitting there with him after he had caught me, with the only thing that was a barrier between us being the white plastic bag that held my new cell phone. As we passed the tree with Nature Boy, I looked up to where he was hanging.

Green eyes stared back.

XXX

The next morning I found myself staring in the mirror at the gaunt girl that was trapped within the silver. She was in only her white towel, her thin and boney frame partially hidden by the ratty fabric. Her hair was plastered to her skin, white and dark. She let the end of the towel she was holding fall, the cloth dropping heavily to the ground and revealing her body for the world to see.

Bones stuck out, skin stretched across the framing like canvas. She was thin, slender, if you asked someone on the street. But still, there was that thing there beneath the skin that was clawing at her ribs, wanting to get out. Scars covered her body, little silver lines that were sometimes noticeable, sometimes not. More recent ones were also comprised of circles, beautiful and round. Symmetrical.

I turned away from the mirror in disgust.

Dressing for the morning at hell was something I didn't really remember. All I knew was that one moment I was naked in my room, the next my hair was brushed and I was in jeans, a black thermal, and a white t-shirt over it that read "I Hope I Scare the Hell Out of You." I debated over whether I should wear it on the first day at Forks, for surely the kids would be traumatized. And Charlie might get mad that I had worn a shirt with swear words on it.

I couldn't bring myself to care.

I knew, at one point or another, the students of Forks High would be scared of me. News traveled fast in small towns, and although I was almost positive that Charlie would not have said anything about _why_ I had come to live with him, eventually it would get around. Plus, maybe the t-shirt would discourage them from interacting with me.

I smiled to myself as I made my way down the stairs, hoping that they would leave me the fuck alone. No doubt they would make fun of me again, as it had been a few years since they had last seen me.

Charlie had left the house hours ago, a note on the kitchen table explaining that he had to leave early for the station this morning and would be home at around six o'clock. The mandatory warning was also in the note, though at the end as if it had been added hastily. It was the normal stuff: no smoking, no drinking, no drugs, and definitely _no fires_.

I wanted to roll my eyes. They were all over reacting, every single one of them. I set fire to one building, and it didn't even have anyone in it! Not that that piece of fucking information mattered to anyone. They all seemed to think that I was going to escalate or something. Fuck that.

I shoved my old converses onto my feet, not having rain boots, and grabbed the school bag that Charlie had packed with all the necessary supplies that were on the list the school had sent to us. It was a simple black bag that Aro and I had drawn all over with silver sharpie. He had even written '_Miembro del Volturi_' across the front of it, letting everyone know not to fuck with me. I gazed upon the bold lettering fondly, remembering exactly when he had taken it upon himself to do that for me.

I closed the front door behind me and locked it with the key that Charlie had left for me on the table with the note. Following the directions that Charlie had given me to the high school, I pondered what the Americans there would think of me.

Certainly, they would be intrigued at first, having not seen me around for seven years now. They would try to talk to me, and would probably end up ridiculing me because of my imperfect English and no doubt because of the rumors of why I was here. Someone would have heard that I was sent to suffer here because I burned down _something_.

If only I was back in Italy. There, people didn't even look at me disrespectfully unless they wanted something unpleasant to happen to them later. Everyone in Volterra knew of us, the Volturi. We were young, powerful, and fearless. We got what we wanted, when we wanted it. No questions asked. Not even the adults would stand against us.

I sighed, knowing that things would be different here. They had no reason to fear me, because all my power and companions were left in Italy when I was forced out of the country by my mother. I would have to _make_ them realize that it was in their best interests not to fuck with me.

By the time I reached the school, there was still fifteen minutes until class started, and cars were slowly filtering into the parking lot in front. I took in the sight before me, marveling how different it was from my school in Volterra.

Charlie had explained that schooling in the United States was not optional until after high school, which was when you were about eighteen or nineteen. It was such a strange concept to me, because in Italy after we turned fourteen or fifteen, our schooling was considered over and was no longer free. If we wanted to continue our education, we chose a _scuola secondaria superior_, a higher secondary school, that specialized in the subject we wanted to work in and we paid tuition. When we were about eighteen, we could then go into a career in the field of study that we chose or continue on to a university for more teaching.

I had decided to continue my education beyond what was required, as did Aro, Marcus, and a few others in the Volturi. Aro and I made the thirty minute trip via expensive car nearly every day to an _istituto d'arte_, or an art school, just outside of Volterra in order to study different art techniques, history, and famous historic and contemporary artists. Coming from that type of optional schooling to this _barbaric_ American schooling was going to be disorienting for me, I could already tell just by looking at how the school was built.

In Italy, mine and Aro's school was one very large and old building with four floors and multiple classrooms on each floor. It was just off a small side street and the surrounding buildings were very close.

Forks High School was comprised of multiple small buildings, all one floor, which were connected by sidewalks and overhangs to protect the students as they traveled from building to building in the near constant rain. The grounds were spacious with greenery everywhere and several courtyards with tables, benches, and trees in between the buildings.

It was so strange, and I didn't feel entirely comfortable with the openness and how few students attended this school. I already knew from Charlie that class sizes here were about fifteen to twenty students per a room, due to the three-hundred and fifty-seven students currently attending. My school in Italy had about twenty-five to twenty-eight students in each class and over five-hundred students enrolled in classes.

I walked quickly to the building at the front of the school with 'Administration' in big, bold letters on the front above the double doors, trying not to draw attention to myself. It wouldn't be long before people started to notice that their number had now become three-hundred and fifty-eight, instead of fifty-seven.

A rather plump woman with fake red hair and an atrocious purple shirt sat at the front desk, typing away at an ancient computer. Her nametag read Ms. Cope, which I had no idea how to pronounce, and she looked up at me briefly before going back to her typing, not sparing me another glance.

Anger flared within me, unbidden. I was fucking _Isabella Swan_, people did not ignore me. I was here to retrieve a schedule of my classes and I was being _ignored?_

I cleared me throat, trying to get the attention of the ignorant secretary. She finally looked up at me and said in a bored voice, "What can I do for you?" She looked me up and down, taking in my shirt and scuffed up leather jacket. The distaste was clear on her face, and it annoyed me.

"I am here for my class list," I responded, not bothering to hide my annoyance and ran a hand through my hair in disinterest. "My name is Isabella Swan."

It took her a moment to understand what I had said, as even I knew my English was poor and she probably didn't catch my name, as it was pronounced so differently in Spain and Italy than it was in America. However, her dull eyes lit up and she shuffled through the papers on her desk, looking for the right ones.

"Yes," she said, pushing a pair of black-rimmed glasses up her nose. "We have been expecting you." She said a few more words that I didn't catch before finding what she was looking for and handing it to me. I had to suppress a smile as I saw something akin to fear and apprehension in her eyes. So she did know why I was here.

The first paper was bright yellow and contained a school map, though I was sure I would not need it. I had noticed before while walking up to the school that all the buildings had clear numbers on the outside and each classroom had the teachers name and subject on a plaque next to the door. It was so strange, going back to a school with so many subjects being taught in it. I hadn't experienced that since I was fourteen.

The second paper, the red-haired woman explained, was a sheet for all my teachers to sign. It was pink, and I instantly took a dislike to it simply because it meant that I would be unable to leave this god-awful place until I was allowed to. I would have to bring back the pink paper after school with all the signatures on it, the secretary with the hard to pronounce name said.

The last she let me look at by myself, going back to her computer and _very_ important typing. I stared down at the green half-sheet, furious that someone had screwed up my schedule and now _I_ had to correct it. This was beyond ridiculous.

"Excuse me," I said, reining in my temper as best I could and trying to be polite to the secretary. Aro always said that people are more inclined to do something if you are polite and persuasive. Only after should you let them know you have no problem with violence. "There has been a mistake."

The woman looked up, blue eyes incredibly lifeless as she stared up at me, her voice annoyed. "How so?"

So now my education was a bother to her? I took a deep breath, not needing a suspension the first day. Charlie would be upset, Renee furious, and it would take me longer to go back to Italy. "I have already taken these classes."

The secretary looked at my schedule, before going back to her work. "There is no mistake. Those are all the standard classes that a junior should be taking."

I bit my tongue to stop the profanities that threatened to leak out at her idiocy. "But, _I have already taken them_. I am studying _art._ I only see one art class on here, and it is a class of medium level. I do not need mathematics or sciences."

The woman ignored me, continuing to type as she told me, "Those are your classes—I cannot change them."

I brought my fist down on the counter and she jumped from the loud thump it made against the wood. I leaned in real close so there was no way she could not understand what I was saying. "I took and _passed_ these classes. I took the required exams and _passed_. I now study _art_. What part of that is so hard to understand?" I growled at her, my eyes narrowing dangerously. This woman was clearly incompetent. I would not take a class that I had already passed.

She squeaked and recoiled from my furious stare, her voice very high-pitched. "I-I'm s-sorry. I c-c-can't do any-anything a-about th-em." I spun away from her and her pathetic trembling voice, striding out of the office and into the rain, the papers she had given me clenched in my fist. I was over this. Clearly the Americans who ran this school were imbeciles, and I would get nowhere with them. I would have to take _another_ semester at my Italian school when I got back in order to catch up, and that put me in a foul mood.

Most of the kids had arrived by now, loitering under the overhangs of the tables and open hallways. I went over to the large covered area that held some of the lockers used at the school. The map indicated that my locker would be in this section, and I stomped over to it, giving glares to anyone who dared to catch my eye.

I stopped at #137, entering the code on my schedule and opened the door, the metal door slamming against the neighboring locker as I did so. It rebounded, vibrating as I shoved the books and supplies that I wouldn't need until after lunch into the cursed thing. I could hear people whispering behind me, either not caring or not knowing that I could hear them.

"Did you see her? She just stomped in here like she owns the place."

"I heard that she was expelled from her last school for pulling a knife."

"No, you just made that up. Remember what my mom said? She burned her school down."

"You're _kidding_," another girl continued to gossip. "Isn't her dad, like, Chief Swan or something?"

"And that's not even the worse part. Apparently she's part of a gang or something."

I could feel their gazes on my then, and I rolled my eyes, dropping my bag to the ground as I straightened my books. I wouldn't call the Volturi a _gang._ More like, an _authority._ You listened to what the Volturi demanded if you wanted to be in their good graces. We did good things, too. Volterra was probably one of the safest cities in Italy. We kept a strict order of things. No murderers or rapists walked the street, and if someone was stupid enough to rob a store or do something else in our city, we dealt with them. Immediately. There never were any repeat offenders after we paid them a visit.

"Yeah, don't you see that, Lauren? The Volturi? That has to be the name, because that is not a Spanish word."

"Isn't she, like, Italian or something?"

I slammed the locker shut, grabbing my bag and swinging it onto my shoulder. The cluster of girls that had been gossiping about me became silent, watching me warily. I ignored them, sticking my hands into my jacket pockets and feeling my lighter with my figures. Maybe I could sneak out during break or something and have a quick smoke. That would help me calm down a little.

As soon as I had passed them, they started talking again.

"Did you see that shirt? Who taught her fashion sense?"

"Totally. I thought Italians had a _good_ sense of fashion. I mean, they're in Europe, right?"

"And those shoes."

I glanced down at my shoes compulsively. They were converse, black with white polka dots on them with random Spanish phrases written on the white rubber edges of the shoes. On the toes, I had written what would be the Spanish equivalent to 'Wicked Awesome.' There was nothing wrong with my shoes.

I stalked off, smiling as I stomped my foot in a puddle, managing to splash the insolent girls with rain water. They screamed, fretting, as I continued on my path to my first class: Trigonometry.

XXX

I hate this fucking school.

In Trigonometry, the teacher, the bastard that he was, made me introduce myself to the class. I made my way to my seat afterward, all of them snickering at how I pronounced my name, though a few quick glares had cleared all that up. Mr. Varner had been relentless in his grilling of me, wanting to know everything I knew and hoping that I would screw up and embarrass myself.

Of course, that didn't happen, but it still annoyed the fuck out of me.

English wasn't much better, as although I had read a majority of the books on the list the teacher had given me, I had read the Italian versions. That would throw me for a loop, I knew, if we had a class discussion on the books. Also, the entire lesson that day had been focused on the more complex parts of English grammar. Though I had learned English in school before now, I had never had a knack for English, something that had vexed my teacher back in Italy. Spanish and even French had come more naturally to me than English, and as English was a required course until you went to your specialty school, you were stuck with it.

So, of course, for the duration of the class I tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

To make things worse, as I started to exit the English classroom to go to my next class, History, a boy who I very clearly remembered pushing me off the slide when I was six walked up to me. I didn't know what he wanted, though I had a good idea that he wanted to break my arm again. His blond hair was gelled into spikes and his rather babyish face hadn't changed much since the last time I had seen him.

Needless to say, after my encounter with the overzealous puppy dog, the news spread like fucking wildfire that I was a bitch and had a spectacular right hook.

People left me alone after that, for the most part.

I was completely pissed by the time I made it to my History class—American, of course, completely mind-numbing—only to realize that not only was I nearly ten minutes late, but I also had to sit in the only seat left—next to Puppy. He shot me an anxious look when I sat down at his lab table, and I smirked as I realized that a bruise was already blooming on his cheek.

I turned to face the front of the class after giving him my infamous Death Glare. Mr. Jefferson, the teacher of this miserable class, was still sending me disapproving looks every now and then, having not accepted my "I'm new" excuse. Ass.

I was doodling in my notebook, pretending to listen to Mr. Jefferson's lecture when I felt something start to slowly creep up my leg, starting at my knee and drifting up from there. Immediately, I had Puppy's figures gripped tightly in my free hand, continuing to doodle as I removed them from my thigh and dug my fingernails into the thin layer on the back of his hand, watching out of the corner of my eye as Puppy squirmed and tried not to let out pitiful sounds of pain.

After I let go of his hand, he pulled up above the table and cradled it to his chest. I felt a smile tug at my lips as I noticed that my nails had left deep gouges in his skin, none bleeding, but I still knew it had to hurt like a bitch.

After class, I cornered Puppy—whose name I had found out was Mike Newton—in the hall before he could escape me. I knew we looked a comical sight—big, tall Puppy, cowering away from a little brunette girl with wide, innocent eyes. If only they knew what I had seen and been through, then they wouldn't think I was so innocent.

I shoved Puppy into the brick wall of one of the classrooms, chuckling to myself as he let out a high-pitched squeal. I thought he would be a bit more of a man. How disappointing.

I leaned up to his ear, running my nose along his jaw line as he trembled, terrified of what I was going to do to him. "Silly Puppy," I whispered affectionately in a voice that one would usually reserve for babies. "I'm not going to hurt you. _This_ time," I told him, bringing my lips to his ear. "I'm sure that you have heard the rumors about me by now. Some very scary things, right?"

I heard him gulp and he nodded his head.

"So that makes me wonder why you would pull a trick like that with me. No matter. I will let you off with a warning this time. But touch me again," I said, reaching down and grabbing his crotch, "and you just might find that something you value very much—" I dug my fingers into his jewels, squeezing tightly as he whimpered loudly "—will be missing." I yanked my hand up, still gripping him tightly, to make a point and then let go, snarling as he collapsed.

"Now get out of my sight." I watched him scurry off, rolling my eyes as he limped away to his next class. Pathetic. The late bell rang then, cluing me in on the fact that I was now late for yet another class. At least today I had the excuse of being new—I wouldn't be able to use that one anymore by the end of this week.

I was just exiting the locker room after gym class—useless, really—when it happened.

I would have made it to the lunch room unscathed except that due to my clumsiness and apparent lack of luck, my foot caught on someone's boot and I came crashing down, my books scattering everywhere and my backpack spinning across the concrete and coming to a stop in a puddle. I winced as the pain in my palms registered in my brain and as I tried to push myself up, I was pushed back down by a set of hands.

I growled as I made contact with the ground again, noticing that whoever the fuck it was that pushed me down had also added another scuff to the sleeve of my black leather jacket. This time I managed to push myself up into a standing position without meeting my lovely friend, the ground, again.

I came face to face with the same group of girls from earlier today that were gossiping about me, the leader a tall blonde that had a very snooty demeanor. I narrowed my eyes at her and her cohorts who had tripped me. I clenched my fists at my sides, telling myself repeatedly that I did not need to be suspended the first day. I wanted to leave the United States before the summer.

The blond glared down at me. "Like, watch where you're going," she said in an unpleasant nasally voice, hands on her hips.

I nearly choked. She _did not_ just say that to me. "Excuse me?" I asked, scoffing. "I think that it was you who tripped and pushed me. I think it's you who need to watch what you're doing."

Most of the girls in the group behind her gasped stupidly, as if it was this _girl_ who was to be followed. They had another thing coming.

The blonde just laughed at me, giving me a nice view of her bleached white teeth as she did so. If she wasn't careful, she might lose a few of those pearly whites in the next few minutes.

"Who do you think you are? Some hot little Italian bitch who can walk over us? You see, I _rule_ this school. I can make your life hell. So, like, watch what you say to me."

I raised an eyebrow at her, incredulous. She thought that _she_ could intimidate _me_? I was Bella fucking Swan, I was a Volturi, I was not someone to fuck with. And she wanted _me_ to give into her rules and let her crush my spine? No. Fucking. Way.

"Listen, Barbie," I hissed, trying to look as intimidating as possible in all the short stature. Aro had always told me that I looked as harmless as a butterfly until I was pissed. "I don't give a fuck who you _think_ you are. You can't hurt me. Do you honestly think you could even look at me without your little posse with you? I don't think you want to know what I'd do to you if you had spoken to me like that in Italia. You see, you would know _better_ than to do that. So, unless you want _this _'hot little Italian bitch' to rearrange your face for you, you best move your scrawny ass out of my way and go about your life without ever bothering me again. So, fuck off."

I whirled away from her as she gazed at me open mouthed, shocked that I had just put her in her place. I was halfway down the hall, having collected my soaked bag and textbooks, when she finally spoke. It was a waste of air, to be honest. "Watch yourself, Swan," Barbie called, and I didn't bother to look at her. "You're on my turf now."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. Wrong, bitch. I may be new, but you're on _mine_.

I caught a boy with black oily hair and acne staring at me as I passed, most likely having seen the entire encounter with Barbie and her evil-as-fuck cohorts. "What are you gaping at?" I snarled, glaring. He paled and scurried off, tripping over his own feet in his haste. I felt a faint smile tug at the corners of my lips. Finally, some balance has been restored.

I skipped lunch, instead opting to sneak in a smoke behind the school. I was still pissed as fuck, and I knew from experience that the bittersweet smoke of a cigarette would be what I needed to survive the rest of the day without being arrested for mass homicide.

I slid down the old brick wall of the school, resting my head against the cool stone once I was in a sitting position with my knees curled up to my chest. I just sat there for a moment, reveling in the momentary peace.

My fingers searched my jacket pocket and brought out the lone cigarette I had stashed there, tucking it behind my ear while I rooted through my other pocket for the lighter. I closed my fingers around the warm metal when I finally found it, pulling the cigarette from its resting place and placing it between my lips as I swiped my thumb across the lighter, hearing the click where a flame should have sprung up, but didn't. I narrowed my eyes, anger mounting. This was _not_ happening.

I clenched the lighter in my fist, attempting to force the orange flame out of it, whether it liked it or not. It clicked at me several more times before I finally growled and chucked it away from me as hard as I could.

It scrapped across the ground, jumping up into the air as it struck the ground. I didn't bother to watch it any further, stuffing the cigarette into my pocket again and shutting my eyes. Could I get _no_ reprieve from this stupid town?

My damn curiosity got the better of me, though, when I didn't hear the lighter hit the ground a second time.

My eyes opened of their own accord and I found a pair of ratty black converse practically toe to toe with my own equally dilapidated pair. _Too _close.

I screeched, jumping up in an instant and had my knife out before I had even righted myself completely, ready to face the attacker who had invaded my personal space. I pressed the blade against his—for it was definitely a boy, judging by the size of the shoe—side and looked up to see his face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I accused, stumbling over the fractured words and quelling my blush before it came. It was just down-right _embarrassing_ that I hadn't heard him approaching.

He stood in shock for a moment, evidently not expecting me to react so violently to his presence, and took a step back, only to be followed by me as I keep the knife pressed in between his ribs. He held up the silver lighter I had thrown. "I take it you had some trouble with this for you to chuck it across the sidewalk?"

I furrowed my brows as I tried to understand exactly what he was saying. Fucking Americans and their stupid language. "What's it to you, Nature Boy? Are you going to tell on me?" I pouted my lip at him, still not removing my blade from his side.

He cocked one eyebrow at me. "Nature Boy? Really? Is that all you could come up with?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, digging the knife a little into his side, just enough to remind him who was the boss here. He got the message.

"Okay, okay," he exclaimed, holding up his arms in the universal sign of surrender. "Easy there."

I raised my eyebrow back at him, backing off a little. "So? Why are you spying on me?"

Nature Boy laughed, running a hand through his strange bronze hair and chuckling slightly. I glared at him and let the light glint off the silver of my knife, reminding him of it. "I was just coming for a smoke, too, and happened to see you throw this beauty away." He proffered another lighter, black in color, smirking knowingly. "Would you like some help?"

I spun away from him while tucking the knife back into my jacket, muttering in Spanish about stupid, fucking, American Nature Boys who thought they could just _fucking waltz_ in and _save_ the damsel in distress.

"Now, now," I heard his blasted voice behind me, the grin evident in his voice, "I know enough Spanish to know that you aren't saying nice things about me. Speak in English," he demanded.

Arrogant little fucker. I answered hotly, in English so he would understand, "You aren't the fucking boss of me. And since when do posh little Nature Boys like you break the rules? Don't you have tennis or some shit like that to get back to?" I asked, trying to rile him up. It worked, sadly enough.

He must have had a bad morning, too, because he simply tucked his lighter away, green eyes dark, and turned, tossing my lighter at the wall as he did so. It clattered loudly on the concrete. "Fuck you."

Then he was gone, with me laughing cruelly at him until I realized that I had just lost my opportunity to smoke before I got back to Charlie's house.

XXX

Still majorly pissed off when I got home, I decided to take a shower, knowing that the relaxing pounding of warm water on my body as I sat on the tile floor would relieve some of the tension left over from the stressful first day.

The steam helped unclogged my senses and I leaned my head back. They were all the same, every last one of them. Nothing had changed since the last time I had come here, and I hated it.

The only new thing was Nature Boy with the red-bronze hair that I had seen in the tree and smoking on the wall at the side of the school. I didn't even know his name, but he had the capability of being somewhat not-annoying, if he decided to control his fucking temper.

That didn't matter though. He was here, and there would be no one but Aro and Marcus who would ever truly understand me, even if the parts I gave them were fragmented at best.

I turned off the shower when the water began to run cold and stood up, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel and proceeding to my room as quickly as possible without slipping, shivering from the cold air in the house as it made contact with my heated skin.

I threw on the first t-shirt and sweat pants that I came across in my drawer and looked at my reflection as I sat on the end of the bed and ran a brush through my long, tangled hair that was still black with the water that was clinging to it. I didn't particularly feel in the mood for taking care of myself, but I knew if I didn't brush my hair now, I would regret it later when I had to take a pair of scissors to a knot.

I was wearing the weird shirt Charlie had gotten for me last year in Florida. I hadn't understood it until Charlie explained to me the English euphemism. The t-shirt depicted a spoon with the words "Cereal Killer" around it. It wasn't until after Charlie told me that the English word for a person who kills multiple people over time sounds the same as the English word for breakfast flakes that I understood it. It was stupid and only slightly funny, but funny none the less.

XXX

Charlie came home to me swearing _very_ colorfully that night. Somehow, I had managed to slip while making spaghetti, the uncooked noodles flying everywhere as I lay sprawled across the kitchen floor, my thick hair fanned out around me on the tile and sticks of spaghetti in it. I had a brief moment in which to think sarcastically, _Great, I'll be picking noodles out of my hair for the next week,_ before the hot water toppled from the stove and spread out across the floor.

This was the scene that Charlie saw, and though he probably couldn't understand a word I was saying, he got the gist of it. My skin was red from the not-quite-boiling water and I was completely drenched with the tan noodles sticking out of my long hair in random places.

XXX

The next morning, I was murmuring softly into the phone while leaning against the metal gate bordering the parking lot. I was close enough to the school entrance that people skirted around me and averted their eyes as they passed. Not that I really cared much at this point.

"_Isabella,"_ the familiar voice drawled through the speaker, _"Patience is a virtue that you do not appear to have."_

"It's not my fucking fault that these people are so fucking stupid. I wish I had a lighter so _I_ _could_ light _them _on fire."

"_And that, my dear, is why you are no longer in Italy."_

"Ah," I groaned. "Fuck Renee."

"_Yes, fuck her."_

I laughed lightly into the phone, muffling it so that the Americans wouldn't hear it. There was a pregnant pause, before he spoke again. _"I miss you."_

"I know," I murmured.

"_The Volturi are restless without you. No trouble has stirred in the city yet, but I fear that it's only a matter of time before someone acts out, thinking they are safe with one of the Volturi leaders gone."_

"And you will take care of it when it does happen," I stated, knowing that he would. Aro and Marcus were quite capable of stamping down trouble-makers.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shock of red hair, but refused to turn to look at Nature Boy. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that I knew he existed. As far as I was concerned, he was nothing.

"_Of course, Bella, but that is not my concern at the moment. My concern is getting you back to Italy and by my side."_ I knew what he really meant, he wanted to fuck me. Truthfully, I didn't care either way, but Aro was Aro, and he was a boy. That's all they wanted, really, but it helped me in the long run. I liked Aro, and if he wanted to, he could destroy me.

"I know. I want to be away from these fucking morons. They're worse than I remember."

Aro chuckled and I ducked my head to hear his next words over the noise of the student body. _"They always are. They are American, what did you expect? The small town ones are the worst. Don't worry; we will have you back soon enough."_

With that, he hung up, the phone beeping once at me to indicate his departure from the conversation.

I sighed, straightening up and snapping the phone shut. I turned, ready to start heading to class, as it would start soon, when I spotted her.

She was tiny, smaller than me, even, with short, jet black hair that looked dyed. A familiar thick streak of brownish-red that might have been her natural color was in her bangs, and ghostly grey-green eyes stared at me.

Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and I noticed that she was covered in all black with matching combat boots adding to the affect. Her clothing only served to make her skin appear even paler and her red lips where downturned.

"What do you want?" I snapped, not in the mood to be fucked with by this little pixie. Pixie glared and stepped a little closer to me, staring me down.

"Listen to me real, real hard, bitch. You may be new, but I don't care. You fuck with me or my brother again, you're dead. Got it?"

I seethed. This was unbelievable. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" I hissed, stepping closer to her so that we were practically nose to nose. I noticed that her pupils were ringed with dark grey while the outside of the iris was pale green. "I don't take orders from anyone, especially you, Pixie. I could take you down without even blinking."

Her eyes darkened and she sneered. "I'm Alice fucking Masen, and I will kick your ass if you so much as inconvenience me again."

With that parting line, she was gone, almost halfway to the school entrance by the time I started moving. Immediately, I knew that news would spread like wildfire that I had just pissed off Alice Masen and Nature Boy, as I realized exactly why that red-brown hair had seemed so familiar.

Well, fuck. Ali-Bitch and Nature Boy were related.

_Way to go, Bella. She was actually serious when she said you were dead._


	4. Chapter Three: A Few Favors

Chapter Three:

A Few "Favors"

Nature Boy still looked miffed as I passed him in the halls, and I was relieved that I didn't come across Ali-Bitch during my ventures. I had to lend her some credit—she was formidable for a fairy. She had impressed me this morning by coming up to me and giving me a piece of her mind. There was nothing I hated more than beating around the bush.

Her brother, however, was just a temperamental little twerp in my eyes—he had no balls to stand up for himself. Given, Ali-Bitch may have attacked me without his knowing, but still.

The day worn on until lunch, without any interaction with Puppy, who had seemed to have learned his lesson. The only unpleasant surprise I had before lunch was that Ali-Bitch happened to be in the same gym class as me. Oh, joy. I was _so_ looking forward to playing sports with her. As if it wasn't enough that I was completely clumsy, she had taken it upon herself to be on the opposite team than me, and had repeatedly hit me with a tennis ball throughout the period.

I had found an old lighter in the kitchen drawer—apparently from Charlie's _smoking_ years—and had nicked it, slipping it into my jacket pocket to use at lunch. This time, I was undisturbed while lighting up and was able to smoke in relative peace before I decided that I might want to get something to eat from the cafeteria. Lunch was almost halfway over, but I still had time before Biology.

I threw open the lunch room doors, hearing them hit the wall with a _bang_ and walked through the middle of the cafeteria. It was utterly silent as the entire school stared at me with varying levels of fear, distrust, and awe.

I paid for an apple and lemonade quickly, turning away from the cashier's window, which promptly closed behind me. All of a sudden Ali-Bitch was in front of me, looking pissed. A tall, blond boy lingered behind her at some distance, obviously with her but not sure if he should get involved. Nature Boy stood beside him, a guarded expression on his face.

"Yes?" I asked snidely, sneering at her.

Ali-Bitch sneered back, taking a step closer. "You watch your fucking step, Swan," she drawled, eyes flashing. "I know that you've been trying to instill yourself into rule here, and it's not gonna fucking happen. This is _my_ school," she added, her voice menacing. Her hair fell into her eyes and she shook it out of the way.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, looking around. Every person in the lunch room was staring at us, watching as if they were waiting for one of us to blow up. They _wanted_ a fight, and no wonder. They wanted at least one of the bitches out of their school. "What are you going to do about it? Is Nature Boy over there going to help you, or is he too scared?" I goaded, smirking. "It seems to me that if his little fairy sister has to fight his battles, then he's a bit of a pussy."

There was a collective gasp amongst the students, it was rather ridiculous. Ali-Bitch fumed, and I saw Nature Boy grab Blondie's arm as he tried to step forward. They shared a look, and I turned my attention back to Ali-Bitch in time to see her launch at me.

Now, I knew how to fight. Not only did I know how to fight, but I knew every dirty trick in the book and I never hesitated to use them. I wasn't known for my honor in Volterra.

I easily caught her and threw her to the ground, watching as she got up and came at me again. I waited until the last second and side-stepped her, hitting the back of her knees to make her fall again.

Ali-Bitch growled, turning around to glare at me with hate-filled eyes before standing again. This time she actually hit me, causing me to stumble back with the force of her punch. I rubbed my jaw, watching her carefully. She knew how to fight, too, though where she learned I had no idea. It was something you picked up on the streets, and none of these pompous Americans had a hard day in their life.

She charged and tackled me to the ground, straddling my waist and slamming her fist into my face again. By now, the kids were chanting "fight, fight, fight", and I flipped us over so I could get in a few hits. I felt large hands grasping my upper arms and hauling me back as I struggled against them. Ali-Bitch stood with the help of Nature Boy, and then ran at me, managing to graze my chin before her brother got a good hold of her and held her still.

"Alright now, y'all get back to yer food, show's over," a powerful voice said from behind me, nearing deafening me as it was said right into my ear. I realized with a jolt that it was Blondie, who had a strange, foreign accent that made it difficult to understand what he was saying. When no one moved to get back to their tables, he shouted, "Now!" They all scurried away like ants.

"Can I trust you enough to not try to fuck up Alice?" He whispered huskily into my ear. I didn't give him a response, instead jerking my arms out of his grip and he let me. "Edward," he called, and Nature Boy jerked his head up away from an apparently heated argument he was having with Ali-Bitch, "come on, it's almost time fer class."

Nature Boy glanced once at me, and then back to his sister, and Blondie seemed to get the message. Ali-Bitch glanced between the two boys and then huffed, stomping up to me. She leaned in so close that I could smell her perfume. Blondie and Nature Boy grabbed us by the arms again, but didn't attempt to pull us away from each other.

Her eyes were a swirling conundrum of green and grey, angry and bright. I felt myself leaning in; we were almost nose to nose. Her breath fanned across my face, her lips were parted, and suddenly her eyes became lustful, staring at me.

Then she yanked away from Nature Boy and pressed up against me. I could feel her small breasts against mine and it was terrifyingly erotic. This shouldn't feel so good. I hated her guts.

Her lips ghosted across my cheek and then to my ear.

"This means war."

She pulled away and looked up at Blondie. "Jasper, Edward, let's go. We have better things to do than deal with this Spanish bitch."

Then they were walking away, and I hated myself for feeling it, but her comment still stung.

XXX

I had discovered not even five minutes later something very unpleasant. Nature Boy, who had apparently skipped class yesterday, happened to be my lab partner in biology. Throughout the entire arduous ordeal, he sat stiffly, glaring at me every now and then. It was a free period, and I had finally grown tired of his irritating looks—I was never one for patience—and kicked his chair to get his attention.

He jolted up from his slumped position on the desk and glared once again.

"Cut it out," I snapped, annoyed. "I didn't do anything to you, ass."

His green eyes sparked. "Really, now? So, you insulting me yesterday, pulling a knife on me, and attacking my sister is nothing?"

I sighed angrily, running a hand through my hair. He was fixing to get his moody ass kicked. "You're just a little pompous American boy, who had everything handed to you. You don't know what it's like to be me. _You know nothing_."

He had no idea what it felt like to be on the streets because you had nowhere else to go, because there was nowhere safe.

That was the irony about Volterra, about that _house._ It was the safest city in Italy, but there was nowhere safe for me to go.

But Aro knew, and I wished I had Aro here with me. He would know what to do about the strange emotions I that was feeling.

He froze, and I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I had hit a nerve. I just didn't care anymore. I was shutting off the emotional part of my brain again, which had for some reason resurfaced during lunch.

Nature Boy was silent for the rest of class, and when the bell rang he was the first out of the door. I walked out, not caring if his little feelings were hurt.

My art class next period was boring as hell, and the teacher had no idea what she was doing, and neither did the students. What was even worse was that Ali-Bitch was in this class too.

Lucky me.

This time she only glared at me from across the room, and it occurred to me then that it would probably be in my best interests to be on her good side. I hated to admit it, but she had power and could seriously fuck me up if she really wanted to, not to mention that she had sidekicks with her, while mine were in Italy. A lot of good that would do me if she decided she wanted to kick my ass all the way back to Europe.

It pained me to think that I would have to _befriend_ her, an American, but I needed allies and I would get nowhere by myself. Hell, she could probably hook me up with some connections in Port Angeles and Seattle for my…hobbies.

The only problem was that I had done a good fucking job of pissing her off.

However, now that I thought of it, I knew exactly what I could do to remedy, or at least start to solve, that problem. I had seen the looks Nature Boy was giving me before I had managed to piss him off. I could use that to my advantage.

XXX

I approached him a week later, having decided to let the lunch incident fade away. I was quite proud of myself, to tell the truth. I had put up with Ali-Bitch's glares and ball throwing, not to mention the _paint_ "accident" where she spilled paint all down my front and in my hair. That stuff was a bitch to get out.

He was out by his car, smoking (surprise, surprise), and I walked up to him quickly. His green eyes narrowed as I approached and he let out a puff of smoke before addressing me.

"What the hell do you want?"

I knew that as long as I stuck to the script, I would have no problem getting him to do what I wanted.

"Do you have a cigarette?"

His brows furrowed, and I watched as he dug into his jacket pocket and removed a pack, proffering them to me. "I don't know why I'm doing this," he commented as I took one and leaned in so he could light it. Once it was glowing at the end, I leaned against his car and watched as he continued to smoke on the hood of his silver car.

It was a few minutes before either of us spoke. He was gazing at me with suspicious eyes, and I was looking at the trees innocently, trying to seem as if all I wanted was a smoke.

He exhaled sharply and stubbed out his cigarette, only to light another one. "You know, I still haven't forgiven you for attacking my sister."

"That's okay," I said, inhaling. "I still haven't forgiven her for smearing paint in my hair last week." He nodded and neither of us moved for awhile.

My cigarette had died and I had a second one dangling between my lips by the time he spoke again. "What do you want?"

His eyes were trailing along my body, taking in the tight jeans and camisole under my usual leather jacket. I can't say that I didn't dress for the occasion. I had even added in a push-up bra to make my breasts more apparent. He looked conflicted.

"Well," I began, drawing it out, "I think we can find a middle ground, if you know what I mean."

By his expression, he didn't.

I flicked my cigarette onto the wet ground, where it sizzled as I moved forward. When I stood before him, I put my hands on his knees and spread them so that I stood in between his legs. I ran my hands over his chest and then move them down to get under his t-shirt. He tensed at my icy hands before relaxing a bit.

"Let's just say that if you put in a good word with your sister, I could, well, _do_ a few favors for you." My hand found his crotch and felt the erection I knew would be there. "Understand, now?"

He looked more conflicted and confused than ever, which was probably for the best. Nature Boy swallowed hard and I pulled the cigarette from his mouth, lifting it to mine and taking a deep breath. I leaned toward him, pressing against his dick and watching his mouth open in a gasp of pleasure. My eyes never left his as I blew the smoke into his mouth, our lips barely brushing as I did so.

Suddenly his hand was in my hair and pulling me to him, kissing me. I knew I had succeeded when I felt his tongue pushing past my lips, ravaging my mouth. His hands were warm against my skin, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

It was only lunch, so I knew that the house would be empty. Typically, I preferred to do this at the boy's house, where they felt more comfortable, but I didn't want to risk Ali-Bitch walking in on us. She didn't need to know that I had seduced her brother so that he would influence her to like me.

I broke away, whispering sweet nothings in Spanish to him, telling his to get in the car as I fished in his pocket for his keys. He did as told and soon I was driving to Charlie's house.

When we got there I attacked him, straddling his lap in the passenger's seat and grinding up against him. His hands gripped my hips roughly as he thrust into me and then opened the car door. I climbed off him and took his hand to lead him to the porch, where I looked around to make sure no one was being a peeping tom and then let us in.

Soon we were in my bedroom and I was letting him pin me to the bed as his lips sucked at my breast. I knew his type—the ones who desperately needed some control in their life. He needed domination to be able to pull this off, so I would let him dominate.

It wasn't long before our clothes were scattered across the floor and I was digging through my bedside drawer, pulling out a condom for him to use and he rolled it on before entering me roughly.

If I was telling the truth, I had never liked this, but men wanted me, wanted my body, so I would use that to my advantage. Sex could aid negotiations, especially those where men were involved.

When he was done, Nature Boy collapsed next to me, breathing heavily. I just looked at him, taking the used condom and wrapping it up in toilet paper before disposing of it in the bathroom trash. When I returned to the room, Nature Boy was leaning up against the headboard. He had guilt written all over his face, and I needed to get rid of that if I wanted him to advocate for me.

"What's wrong, _mi__ amor_?" Men loved it when girls called them sweet things in other languages.

He looked up at me and grimaced. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Why? Because your sister hates me? Well, _everyone_ hates me. That shouldn't influence your decisions."

"No," he growled, running a hand through his red hair in frustration, "because it was a bad idea. You don't need to know why."

I stalked toward him, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Well, that's wonderful," I hissed, jabbing a finger in his direction. "I'm not some common slut who fucks anyone who wants to get into her pants. I'm hot, and I know it. You wanted me. I needed something. This may have been just a business transaction, but don't you go about saying that I was a mistake."

He stood up, snatching his pants from the floor and making to put them on. "I don't need this. Forget you."

I hastily calmed myself down. I needed him to leave _wanting_ to assist me. I sighed and pushed my hair out of my face. "Look, I'm sorry," I said with some difficulty. "Maybe I can make it up to you?" I asked in an innocent voice, ripping his clothes from his hands and pushing him against the door. I fell to my knees in front of him and took his rapidly hardening member into my hand, pumping it slowly. "You know, before you leave?"

He left awhile later, much more pliable than before, and I was very satisfied with the work I had done today, despite the aftertaste in the back of my mouth.

XXX

Nature Boy wasn't at school the next day.

I wouldn't have noticed, except I was looking for him in the cafeteria from my table in the back corner. It was clear across the room from Ali-Bitch's table with her cohorts, so she didn't tend to look in my direction often.

I was hoping that Nature Boy would have already starting working on her, which was why I was still watching for him, but he wasn't there. Neither was Jasper, for that matter, but who cared about him. I certainly didn't. He wouldn't do me any good, as I got the vibe from him that my seducing would not work very well on him, for whatever reason.

I sighed to myself and pulled out my cell phone, wanting to talk to Aro.

It rang for awhile before someone answered it, and it certainly was not who I expected to pick up.

"_Hello_," said a voice in Italian, one that irritated the hell out of me.

"What the fuck are you doing on Aro's phone?" I snarled, grinding my teeth with impatience.

"What a greeting, Bella," he said, his snide tone making me grimace. "No 'good day' for your dearest friend?"

"I don't associate with assholes willingly," I clipped, tugging at my hair. "Now put Aro on."

"I'm afraid he's a little…preoccupied at the moment. You can just talk to me, though. You know I just love your company, even if over the phone." There was a pause while I was trying to figure out a way to make him put Aro on the damn phone when I couldn't actually do anything to him in the near future.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, _mio amore_, but you wish I could."

Oh, no, but I did wish I could strangle him. Maybe Aro would do it for me if I asked real nice. "I don't fuck spineless pigs."

"Well, you're in luck, then."

"_¡__Puta madre__—!"_

I was cut off by a shuffling sound and a loud "_Scopata!_" before I heard Aro's voice through the speaker.

"I apologize for…that," he said slowly, and I just knew that he was glaring at Caius as he was shoved out the door.

I spoke in Spanish now, relieved to be done with Aro's brother. "Where the fuck were you?"

Aro ignored my question. "The little fucker needs to get a girlfriend."

His non-answer was enough. He had been fucking some girl. Like I would care. "Well, Aro, it seems like he might be over-compensating a bit. Don't you mean _boyfriend_?"

His laughter was loud enough to attract the attention of the Americans at the table next to mine. They frowned, and then quickly turned away as they realized it was me they were glaring at.

I glanced around the lunch room as I spoke, "Anyway, has the sun stopped rising in my absence?"

Aro chuckled, but the sound was lost as my eyes connected with a set of ghostly green orbs at the other end of the room. It was the first time I had looked at them since the fight, and I couldn't tear myself away. They bored into my own, holding me captive as I forgot where we were.

She wouldn't let me go, but then maybe I just wanted to be her prisoner. I didn't want her to let me go.

And that terrified me.


	5. Chapter Four: Stupidity and Cluelessness

Chapter Four:

Stupidity and Cluelessness Never Cease to Amaze

Several days passed before Nature Boy came back to school. When he did, it took another week before Ali-Bitch would even look at me without sending me a glare, by which time the bruises from our last fight had faded.

I knew I had done well when she handed me a bottle of paint in art class without splashing me with it, and that gave me hope that maybe she would ally with me. The look that she had sent me nearly two weeks ago at lunch still haunted me, but I tried not to think about it too much.

To be honest, however, those eyes had been the subject of dreams every night, and I would find myself waking up in a cold sweat multiple times during the night, feeling hot and sweaty and all too _needy. _Needy for the equally hot, sweaty, squirming, and pale body that was above me and below me and all _around_ me.

I awoke disturbed by these dreams, feeling sick at the aching feeling deep within me that no other person had ever caused. It was entirely too strange and terrifying.

I didn't tell anyone about these feelings, though I most certainly didn't look her in the eyes anymore, unless absolutely necessary. I didn't know what to make of what I was feeling, and I wasn't entirely too sure that I wanted to figure it out.

Aro called me most days, and although he had always been my closest confidant, the only person I had ever become _close_ to, I didn't utter one word about Ali-Bitch. I didn't even bring up the topic. I was independent, I was self-assured, and I could take care of my own problems.

So why, then, did I feel so helpless?

My art had taken a turn as well.

Gone were the beautiful landscapes and Italian boulevards. They were replaced by swirling conundrums of color, abstract and so many things at once. They papered my bedroom walls, threatening to swallow me whole if I dared to look at them too long.

That was another thing. My room, once a place of solace for me, was no longer. The pictures bothered me, and I couldn't make myself pull them down from the walls. So, I had taken to sitting on the back porch and occasionally exploring the forest that backed up to the house. I didn't particularly like getting wet, but I was so bored and the need to escape thoughts of those haunting eyes was so persistent that I would do whatever possible to satisfy it.

At least now I didn't have to walk to and from school in the rain. Charlie had finally straightened out my driving problem, and after one lengthy stop at the nearest DMV, I was ready to drive. He even bought an old truck for me to drive off a friend who lived on the reservation to the west of us.

Though, it was more beast than truck. A rusty, metal beast that growled when you turned the ignition, as if it didn't want you to drive it anywhere, but would go anyway because it had nothing else better to do. I think it was red, but it was probably more rust than paint.

At least I could smoke in the cab without Charlie becoming suspicious. It smelled comfortingly of mint and tobacco, and the big seat inside was reupholstered. The radio was crap, but I didn't use it so that didn't matter much.

XXX

Driving to school a few days later was extremely slow. I seemed to hit every red light on the way, and it was almost as if there was something out there that _really_ wanted me to be late for class.

Once I parked, I locked the door to the rust bucket, sideling over to the front of the red beast.

"Fuck," I muttered as I dropped my keys in a puddle. I bent down to pick them up, shuffling and mumbling as I reached for them.

Only, I never reached them, as before I could a small body pressed into my back and pulled my right arm up behind me.

"What the fuck—" I started to say before the side of my face slammed into the rusty hood of my truck, most definitely leaving a bruise.

"You know," she said, pressing her hips into me while continuing to twist my arm up behind my back, "my brother just can't seem to stop talking about you."

I scowled, wishing that I could pull myself free, but not really wanting to have to explain a broken arm to Charlie.

"I find it _very_ interesting that not even a week after their argument, he is singing your praises."

I didn't bother asking whose argument it was. I had more important things to worry about right now, such as getting myself out of Ali-Bitch's grasp.

"So, listen real close you little bitch," she hissed. "I know what you're up to. I'm not stupid. You've finally realized that you don't have anyone to stop me from kicking your ass. So, my little Spanish bitch, what should we do about that?"

I didn't care what she wanted to do. All I knew was that my shoulder was really starting to burn and then the pressure from her hips and arm were gone.

I bolted up turning around to face Ali-bitch once and for all. Fuck getting her on my side.

I whirled around, ready to strike her until I saw her horrified face.

Screeching filled my ears, a sinking feeling in my heart as I turned to look at what was the cause of all the noise.

I didn't know who the van belonged to. To be honest, I had never really seen it before. Then again, I had never really been in the parking lot much before yesterday, when Charlie gave me the truck, making me promise not to do anything stupid.

Did this qualify as stupid? Just standing here with a girl I hardly knew and staring at death as it tried to come get me?

My eyes were wide as I watched the dark green behemoth come closer still. The driver, a blond boy, was screaming something I couldn't understand while his horn blared, though I got the feeling that it was along the lines of, "run, bitch, run."

I didn't run. I couldn't. My legs were filled with lead, unmovable. My heart was pounding in my ears and all I could think about was how I would never return to Italy.

I couldn't find it within myself to be sorry about that.

What I did feel sorry about was how pathetic my life had been so far.

I shut my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

I heard crunching, the grinding of metal.

My eminent demise was here.

Suddenly, I was yanked down, my eyes flying open as the sky appeared before me and then the underside of my truck as I was rolled beneath it. It jostled as the van collided with it, the driver's side door crunching loudly and the window shattering. I felt the tire nudge my leg, and then everything settled.

It was quiet for one, long moment before the screaming started.

I'm sure that no one actually cared if we were okay, but the boy driving the death machine? That was probably a different story.

Us.

I turned my head to the side and met a pair of ghostly green eyes. I had forgotten she was with me.

XXX

Doctor Cullen was a nice doctor.

He didn't poke and prod me too much, and once he checked my head to make sure I didn't have a concussion and gave me pain meds for my aching shoulder, he said I could go.

He knew that something was up.

He bit his lip as he looked at the results from the machine he had put me through, and I knew that he was looking at all of the times Giorgio had decided it would be fun to try to bash my head in, but he didn't say a word.

Such a nice man.

However, as I left, he gave me both his card and the card of who I assumed to be his wife. He knew I was out of danger for now, but he suggested that if I decided Italy wasn't "quite my style," then I should give his wife a call. Esme Cullen was a "social worker."

I wasn't sure what that was, but by his pointed looks at my skull, I assumed that she worked with people like me.

I politely nodded before hightailing it out of there. No need to worry about me. I only had a few more years left to deal with my step-father, and even then I was only really at the house when I was getting more of my stuff to take over to Aro's apartment. Being nineteen, he had decided to get his own place away from his brother where I would be able to stay more frequently. I even had a key.

I walked out of the hospital room and into the hallway, looking for her. I knew she would be around here somewhere, and that just fueled my search.

I didn't have to look far. She was just down the hall and around the corner. Earphones were blaring loud music with heavy instruments and her eyes were shut, her head bobbing to the music. Waiting for something.

"What?"

Waiting for me.

"What is it you want?" she snapped, not even glancing my way.

"Well," I growled, "I was thinking about saying thank you for pushing me out of the way of a moving van, as common courtesy dictates, but I'm thinking better of that decision now."

"Fuck you."

I shook my head to stop myself from thinking about any hidden meanings behind that.

"No, thank you."

It was quiet for a moment, neither of us moving. I realized that from where she was standing, she could see the road leading to the front entrance of the hospital. She only had to go down the hall and she would be at the front doors.

I couldn't pry my eyes away from her face—it was curious and fascinating to me. Her eyeliner was thick and dark, making her ghostly eyes appear even paler, creepier. I had a feeling that she strove for that look, hoping to scare away anyone stupid enough to confront her.

Too bad I was stupid. Aro had always said that I had a knack for getting myself into situations without thinking about how to get out of them.

"I…" I couldn't find the words that I knew I should say. My pride would be damaged in the process of saying them and, quite frankly, I liked it when people stroked my ego. But I also knew that she wouldn't say them, and if I didn't, maybe next time she would just let me become blood splatter on the pavement.

"Look, I don't say this often, so listen close. _Sorry_." I spat the word like it was poison. "I was…"

"Bitchy? Stupid? Egotistical? I could go on if you like," she offered, still not looking at me.

I puffed up, not liking her tone. It was biting and bitter. "Hey, I don't need to say anything to you. I don't need to fucking justify myself to you, bitch—"

"I'll let you become fucking road kill next time, then. Thanks so much for the appreciation. Ya know, I only saved your fucking useless life."

As she said this, she wasn't looking at me, and that irritated the hell out of me. If you're going to insult me, say you'd let me become road kill—whatever the fuck that was—then at least look me in the eye.

I glared at the side of her head before turning to see what had caught her attention.

A car was driving up to the hospital drop-off zone. I had expected it to be Nature Boy's ridiculous, old silver family car, but it wasn't. It was older, more beat up, and deep red in color.

Nature Boy was in it, but he wasn't the one driving. It was hard to read his expression from here, but his face was paler than usual and he didn't look entirely at ease. My gaze flickered over to the driver.

I froze as a pair of icy green eyes met mine. They were nothing like Nature Boy's or Ali-Bitch's; there was nothing but pure rage and contempt in their depths.

The man held a striking resemblance to the siblings, and I could only conclude that it was their father. His reddish hair matched Nature Boy's unruly mess and the streak in Ali-Bitch's black hair.

When I finally tore my eyes away from his cold stare, I looked at Ali-Bitch. Her demeanor startled me. No longer was she strong and defiant, now she was but a little girl who seemed to cower under her father's harsh glare. As I took in her shaking form I noticed two things simultaneously.

First, she had turned quite pale and had wiped at her cheek.

And second, a dark, ugly yellow bruise lay where the makeup had been accidently smeared away.

I knew that was not new from this morning. When it was yellow, and that meant that it was old, healing.

She had been stuck.

Repeatedly.

More lay on her collarbone and shoulder, where her hoodie had slipped to the side and off her arm. All were different colors, some fresh, some so old that they were almost gone. Almost disappeared without a trace.

Neither of us said anything as Alice's eyes met mine fearfully before she whipped around, hiding her ruined face behind her hair and readjusting her sweatshirt. Keeping her head down, she started walking away quickly.

She was almost at the end of the hall when my throat unstuck itself and I whispered so quietly that I wasn't entirely sure she could hear me, "I understand."

Freezing as she was turning the corner, her eyes found mine. I reached up and pushed my shirtsleeve up, past my elbow, until it was bunched up just under my armpit. There, against my white skin, was a long, jagged line that was angry and red, puckered around the edges.

A parting gift from Giorgio.

She didn't say anything, turning away and disappearing around the corner.

Nothing needed to be said. Tit for tat, I suppose. Now we both knew one of each other's dirty little secrets, and they were safe.

I turned to look out the large hospital window again at the beat-up car. Edward's eyes were fearful, I realized, and I was willing to bet that Alice wasn't the only one on the receiving end.

As they turned down the road leading to the hospital, I met the abuser's eyes once again. Cold, heartless, terrifying eyes.

I had looked into the eyes of pure evil. I hadn't known that there were others like Giorgio in the world, and while I had escaped my tormentor, at least temporarily, they had not.

And I could do nothing for them.

XXX

_I sighed, tossing over onto my other side as I stared at the wall. My bed was small, but that was okay. The better to ward _him_ off._

_Aro and I had just had sex, again. I wasn't sure I liked it, but I chalked it up to Giorgio's abuse._

_A small part of me knew that sex was one of the reasons Aro kept me around and tolerated my bad temper. I just didn't give a damn._

_I jumped as a crash from downstairs reached my ears. I wasn't sure where Renee was, and as much as I hated her, I wanted her to come back. At least when she was here, he couldn't really hurt me._

_Glass shattered again and I knew that Giorgio was drunk. He only dropped the bottles when he was piss-ass drunk._

_I curled up on my bed, hoping against hope that he wouldn't call for me to clean it up. It would start with me clearing the glass, and end with me bleeding on the floor. It always did._

"_Beeeelllllllllaaaaaa," he wailed up the stairs, and I pushed myself off the bed. I groaned as my sore limbs stretched, gently rubbing my bruises. It was so hot, and even though the summer air was so humid I felt like I was drowning every time I breathed, I still kept on the long sleeved sleeping shirt and pants. Maybe if I was feeling reckless and my step-father passed out from the alcohol, then I would sleep nude on top of the sheets with my bedroom door locked. Maybe._

_I shuffled down the stairs to my doom._

_Giorgio was waiting for me, swaying lightly as his eyes strained to focus on me. He was really drunk this time. I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing for me._

"_Clean this_ mess_ up," he slurred, brandishing the liquor bottle in his hand at the far wall. Glass glittered in the dim light on the floor._

_I quickly (or as quickly as anyone in my condition could) grabbed the broom and a towel, first mopping up the puddle of bitter liquid on the tile and then sweeping the pieces of glass into one pile, so it would be easier to pick up. I knelt once again to pick up the shards with the towel, wondering, not for the first time, what it would be like to just take one of the sharper pieces into my hand and watch myself bleed._

_Giorgio probably wouldn't even notice._

_I had dumped the glass into the trash and rung out the rag when he stopped me on the stairs. "Wait, Bella."_

_I froze hoping that he wouldn't do anything tonight. Hoping that he was too drunk to._

"_Come here."_

_When I didn't move, he made me, grabbing me by my hair and dragging me into the living room. "I said come _here_, bitch."_

_I collapsed onto the floor when he let go of me, wrapping my arms around my burning scalp and curling into a ball, trying to make myself as small as possible. The smaller the target, the harder it was to hit._

_He kicked me first, brutally in the ribs and then back. I whimpered, hoping it would be over soon. I was a fighter, but I had given up fighting him long ago. I was but a small thirteen year old girl, less than five feet, and he was twice my size. I was outmatched._

_Eventually he stopped, but not before hitting me with his belt. I could feel myself bleeding, and I was shaking violently at his feet, both in fear and pain. This wasn't as bad as it could have been, I told myself as he sat down on the couch and turned on the television._

_I sniffled, hoping that I could just get to my feet and leave before I had to clean up my own blood from the floor, too. My head pounded._

"_Oh, my little Bella," he sighed. "Come on. Up," he commanded, pulling me up and into his lap before I could react. "You know that I don't like doing this to you, but it can't be helped. You just need to be a better girl." He took another swig from the bottle._

_I just sat curled up in his lap, not daring to move. If he could just remain like this until he passed out, then I would be free for the night. Aro let me stay at his place sometimes. His parents didn't really care what their sons or their guests did, so long as they weren't disturbed. The apartment was small, much smaller than our house, but whenever I went over, Aro took care of me. He bandaged my wounds, stitched up the ones than needed to be stitched, and would just hold me in his arms as we lay on the bed, trying to sleep, but failing._

_He was good to me like that._

_I could feel Giorgio's erection pressing into my leg as he held me, but he was too far gone to move and before long his rocking ceased. _

_I was free._

XXX

Charlie picked me up in the cruiser-mobile a few minutes after Alice left. I felt a little sick, remembering some of the crap that Giorgio did. That was a good night compared to the others.

I didn't go back to school the next day, and I feigned having a pain in my shoulder so I wouldn't have to go back the day after that. I figured that I probably couldn't get away with a third day off from school, but I really didn't want to go back. I couldn't believe that I had slipped up like that, let someone _here_ know what went on in Italy.

I just didn't think clearly around her. Those damn captivating eyes.

Would she have told anyone? I didn't think so, as she had her own secrets, but you could never know. She might decide to just screw me over as the ultimate punishment for getting in her way. Then Charlie would find out and I would never, ever go back to Europe again.

Fuck.

Why did I have to be so stupid?

XXX

The hot water stung as it hit against the skin of my thighs. More burns had been added since I first arrived, and the goodbye gift from Giorgio was still as sensitive as ever. It burned something fierce, and I gasped, almost pulling away from the stream of water.

It felt too good. It was something different than the usual and it felt _good_.

Once I was done in the shower (I may or may not have added a few new cuts to my collection), I dried off and toweled my hair. Aro had bought me a nice black dress with a lace overcoat a few years back. It was short, to my knees, but it was supposed to be warmer today and I hadn't done the laundry for awhile. I had no other choice.

Eyes lined with coal, I left the house in my converse, skipping breakfast and slipping into my leather jacket. Charlie was gone—if I had asked, he probably would have given me a ride. My rusty, old truck had been towed so it could be fixed, that van did a lot more damage to it than I thought it had.

It was probably for the best that I wouldn't be arriving at school in a car with flashing lights on top.

It was chilly, but not that cold. Tolerable and nothing like Italy. The cold felt numbing, and I could sense my emotions calming as my fingers started to freeze. My toes were cold, too. Wet.

That wasn't new.

I was about halfway to school when I heard a car come up behind me. I turned to look at who it was, and was met by the sight of a silver Volvo. It pulled up ahead of me before I got a good look at who was driving. There was only one person in the car.

I yanked the head phones out of my ears, pausing the blaring Italian rock band that was currently playing and stuffing my iPod into my backpack.

My breath caught in my throat when I saw the driver.

"Are you going to get in or not?" she questioned through the open window, reaching over to open the passenger door.

Well, I wasn't completely a moron. It was cold out here, and my biggest enemy in Forks had just given me a peace offering.

This was spectacular.

Alice pulled away from the side of the road, turning up the radio as she did so. Loud music filled the car, and I had to give her some credit for the heavy metal. She had good taste in music.

"Dressed a little cold there," she commented casually, not looking at me. I frowned, not understanding what she was trying to say. "Sorry, your English is good, but it's not that good, is it?"

"No," I answered shortly.

She sighed and simplified her statement for me, "Your dress—it's not quite made for Forks."

It was my turn to sigh. "No, but I haven't washed the clothes for awhile, so it was all I had."

"It's nice," she told me, staring at the road.

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. She was being really nice—it was kind of creepy. "Thanks, I guess. It was a gift from a…friend." That was what Aro was, right? That description of him didn't seem like it covered everything he was to me.

It was quiet for a long time, and I took this opportunity to _really_ look at her.

She was extremely pretty, her pale eyes lined with dark makeup again, just like mine. Her hair was spiky, but it looked a little more disheveled than it usually did. Of course her skin looked flawless—she had plenty of time to perfect her makeup over the past years, most likely. But I knew from experience that the perfect façade hid disfiguring marks.

"Where is your brother?"

Alice startled at my question, jerking slightly into the other lane before gaining her composure. It was a good thing that she was the only driver on the road.

"He's not feeling too well today."

I knew what that meant, and I knew that she knew that I understood the hidden connotation in her statement. Their father had gotten to him. I didn't say anything until we arrived at the school parking lot.

"Thanks for the ride. I guess."

As I stepped out of the car, I could have sworn that everyone was staring at us. I wasn't that paranoid, and Alice noticed it too, judging by the look in her eyes, but she ignored them.

"You're welcome. I think our lockers are near each other. We can walk together."

As it turned out, our lockers were _right next_ to each other. Fucking coincidences, right? Not that I was complaining. I was on her good side now.

It was amazing what a couple words could do.

Barbie passed us, sniffing as she saw that Alice and I were no longer at each other's throats. Granted, things were a bit awkward and tense between us, but we could now tolerate the other's presence.

I think we all knew that the entire school was terrified of us, more so now that we had joined forces. There was almost no chance now that one of us would eliminate the other.

Perhaps we could wreak havoc together. Put Barbie and her minions in their proper places. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, just a little bit. We weren't exactly _friends_.

Then what were we?

Alice slammed her locker shut and turned around, leaving without even a parting glance.

What the fuck? I thought we had _bonded_. Fucking bi-polar pixie.

XXX

In Art, the teacher assigned us partners and told us to sketch them. Lucky for me, Alice and I were partnered. From glimpsing her art out of the corner of my eye whenever I passed her table, I could tell she was a very talented artist.

I didn't think anyone was very talented.

The drawing was due next Tuesday, and though most of the class groaned, I knew that was definitely enough time to make a portrait. A very nice portrait.

Alice gave me a half-grin when the teacher turned us over to free time to work on our project. "So, who should go first?"

Without waiting for my answer, she pulled out her drawing book, a pencil, and a hand-held sharpener. I turned my body to face her, somehow sensing that there was no use in arguing with her.

As she drew, I watched her carefully. She was very intent on her work, sticking her tongue out and biting it whenever she messed up, screwing up her face and erasing furiously whenever this happened.

It was kind of cute.

I shunned those thoughts as soon as they popped into my mind, but they just kept coming back. What was wrong with me? Girls weren't _cute_.

But as I observed her arched brows, high cheekbones, wide eyes, and red lips, I couldn't help but come to one conclusion.

Alice was fucking gorgeous.

Surely she would have a boyfriend? Girls like her just weren't single. Perhaps her and Jasper?

I didn't like that image for some reason.

The bell rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. Alice hadn't finished her sketch yet, though I hadn't seen it, so I didn't know how far she had gotten with it.

"Tomorrow," she said, while packing up. "Tomorrow we can continue. I have a feeling that Ms. Victoria will allow us to work again."

I turned away, stuffing my sketchbook into my bag. We walked out to her car slowly, the students avoiding us like the plague. I didn't blame them.

The drive to Charlie's house was silent except for the pounding beats coming from the radio. Pulling into the driveway, she parked the car and turned to me. "Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow morning?"

I nodded. "It would be appreciated."

I started to get out of the car, shivering as the wind blew against my bare legs.

"Oh, and Bella?"

I twisted around to face her and jumped a little when her face appeared before me much closer than I thought it would. "Yes?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Alice smiled then, a breath taking smile that showed off her white teeth. She was so close to me that I could feel her warm breath wash over my face as she spoke, "Smile." Her fingers pushed at the corners of my mouth until I complied. "There."

I stumbled out of the car, cursing under my breath as I stepped into a puddle. My sock became soaked instantly. I was almost to the front steps when her voice called after me again.

"And Bella?"

My eyes connected with hers, my breath hitching at the strange look in her eyes. "You look very nice in that dress. You should wear it more often."

Once inside, I kicked off my shoes, peeling my socks from my cold feet and collapsing against the door.

What the hell was that?

* * *

_Thanks to a very persistent friend, you all have this chapter. A little confusing, right?_

_Well, review! If every person on my alerts list reviewed, I would have 100!_

_Plus, if you drop a review, I might just give you a preview of the next chapter._


	6. Chapter Five: About a Girl

Chapter Five:

About a Girl

The next day, Alice was at my house early, and I mean _early._ I was just brushing out my wet hair when I heard the knock on the door, and I stared in horror at my reflection in the mirror as I realized there was only one person who could be on the welcome mat.

Crap. I wasn't ready. I didn't have my clothes on for today, my makeup wasn't done, and my hair was still dripping down my back.

"Shit." I quickly ran into my room, pulling on a random pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had "Art is Life" on it in Italian. Another gift from Aro.

Her knocking became louder and more insistent as I rushed down the stairs, my feet pounding on the wood. My momentum carried me forward into the door with a loud _thunk_. At the loud bang, Alice's insistent tapping stopped, and I heard her muffled voice ask me if I was alright. Damn that fucking door. Why did it have to be right at the bottom of the stairs?

Blushing, I opened the offending piece of wood and hurried her inside, shutting it and sprinting back up the stairs. "Sorry," I shouted as I arrived on the first landing and started turning to climb to the second. "Non sono pronto."

Her voice called after me, "Bella, English, please."

"Uh," I mumbled, not computing what she had just said. I was _so_ not ready. Why was she here? Now? Fucking shit. It was way to fucking early in the morning for this shit. I continued to rattle off to her, not really knowing what I was saying as I rushed over to the bathroom.

Apparently, neither did she.

"Bella!"

I stopped what I was doing at her stern tone and turned to face her. She was in the bathroom with me. "Stop. _Breathe_. You're not late. Calm. _Calma._"

I ignored her terrible accent and went back to applying powder to my face. I closed the case and picked up the eyeliner pencil.

Charlie's bathroom counter was too high for me to lean across and still get the precision I needed, so I pushed myself up onto it so that I was on my knees in front of the mirror, one leg on either side of the small sink. I started to draw the pencil across my eyelid, carefully dabbing short little lines along my lashes. "You're early," I stated absentmindedly, not paying attention to anything other than my current task. I didn't need to smudge the line and have to start all over.

I didn't hear her respond and, once I finished drawing, I twisted around to look at her.

I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She was staring in my direction, her eyes glazed. Her red mouth was open slightly, and she wasn't moving. "Alice?" I asked, trying to get her attention. "Alice!"

Her eyes immediately snapped up to mine, a sheepish grin on her face. She glanced down again, then back to my face. "Sorry?" Her innocent tone and face pissed me off a little, but I couldn't be mad for long. She _was_ offering to give me a ride after all, so who was I to be pissed is she was not paying attention?

Turning back to the mirror, I started to work on my other eye. "You're early," I repeated.

"I guess so," she mused behind me.

"Where is your brother?" I asked, glancing at her reflection in the mirror just below my elbow, realizing that he had not been with her or in the car when I let her into the house.

"Still sick," she supplied and I nodded, though I knew that was code for "still too battered to show his face in public."

I finished quickly, swiping some dark eye shadow on before hopping down and brushing my teeth. Alice stood patiently with me until I left the bathroom, darting into my room to grab my leather jacket, a pair of socks, and my hair brush. I yanked it through my hair, trying to get out a particularly stubborn knot, until Alice pulled it out of my hands and gently started to brush out the tangle for me. I stiffened at her close proximity, not entirely sure what to do. She quickly tamed the rest of my hair, handing it back to me when she was done and walking through my door and down the stairs. I trailed behind her helplessly, like a lost puppy, shoving my arms into my jacket as we entered the downstairs and went into the kitchen.

I didn't eat with Charlie last night, claiming to have eaten earlier. He believed me without much persuasion.

However, I needed to eat something now. I knew from experience that, if I went too long without putting something in my stomach I would get dizzy, and I didn't need to pass out at school.

I snagged an apple out of the refrigerator and plopped on top of the kitchen counter, biting into it. Alice just watched me, retrieving my shoes for me when I was close to finishing. The trash was under the counter, and I reached down to throw out the core, muttering my thanks as Alice handed me my shoes. I pulled them on before hopping off the counter and leading her out the front door.

There was less staring today when we arrived at the school, but still enough to make me glare daggers at anyone who happened to look our way.

She left me at our lockers again, not really speaking to me as we walked there.

Gym went without much contact with Alice, and lunch went the same as it did yesterday. The only real excitement I had was getting some literary analysis essay back during English that caused my heart to palpitate as I saw the large, fat red _F_ on the paper with the comment _"Poor grammar"_ written next to it. I was still fuming about it as I sat down at lunch, because _really_? What did they fucking expect from a transfer student who could barely speak English, let alone write it! I decided that I would probably go harass the teacher about it later.

Alice and I sat at our usual tables across the cafeteria from each other, and both were completely empty except for us. Jasper was also missing today, but I didn't know if it was just because he was elsewhere or skipping school. I wouldn't have even known he existed, but for his involvement with Alice.

I pulled out my sketchbook and started to draw in it, not really thinking about it.

Dark lashes around wide eyes.

The lines of plump lips.

Shading on the high cheeks and narrow jaw.

Short, spiky hair.

Cute nose.

I realized with a sickening jolt just who I was drawing as I started to pull out the green and grey colored pencils for the eyes.

I slammed the sketchbook shut and pushed it violently away from me along with the pencils I had pulled out of my bag.

Couldn't I just get _one fucking minute_ away from her? Physically, we couldn't have been more distant, so why couldn't she do the same for me mentally?

My phone decided to ring at that moment. Motherfucking fuck...

The people at the next table turned to see who was cursing, various forms of a if-looks-could-kill glare plastered on their faces, only to turn back around quickly when they saw it was me. Oh, didn't realize I had said that aloud. Some of them glanced back at me only to jerk and stare down as I made eye contact with them.

The phone insisted on regaining my attention, and I knew there was only one person who would be calling me at this time of the day. At least Aro would be able to provide a reprieve from confusing-as-fuck Alice. Fucking bi-polar pixie. What she made me feel wasn't right.

My phone let out another baleful moan as it continued to ring. The table nearest mine had stopped glaring at me entirely, though I saw a few of them twitch each time my phone rang, but they didn't do anything about it, too afraid of what I might do to them. Fucking pussies.

"What," I snapped as I flipped the phone open, not really caring if he took offense.

"Hello to you, too, my darling," he drawled through the speaker. "How has that abysmal town been treating you?"

"It fucking rains here all the fucking time, the inhabitants get stupider with every fucking day that passes, and I am living with a fucking cop—" not to mention a certain bi-polar pixie whose name shall not be mentioned "—how do you think it's treating me?"

"Well, you know me, I just had to ask," he answered sardonically.

"I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with your shit, Aro," I snapped back.

"As if I can't tell," I could almost see his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "What's got your fucking panties in a twist?"

I was tempted to tell him it was none of his fucking business. Instead, I hung up on him. So much for a fucking distraction.

I ignored my phone when it started ringing again, no doubt Aro calling back to chew me out for dismissing him. As if I would willingly subject myself to that.

I hit the ignore button, knowing that he would be hearing my standard "fuck you" message at any second when it went to voicemail. He probably wouldn't be too happy about that, but I didn't give a damn.

He should know better than to piss me off. I know he could just find some whore to suck his cock—and he was probably doing that right at this moment—but I was the best at pleasing his needs and if he wanted me to continue doing so when I got back to Italy, then he needed to be fucking nice.

Because, no matter how much he liked to believe that all the ladies wanted him, which they did, it was no secret among people our age in Volterra that Aro was rough as hell during sex and didn't really give a fuck if he hurt the person he was screwing. He may be attractive as hell, but no girl in her right mind would sign up for that without serious incentive.

Luckily for him, I wasn't ever really in my right mind. My only incentive was the pain.

Yeah, I decided right then, I really was a bitch.

Too fucking bad.

My phone was ringing again, and this time I just shut it off. The fucking bastard could deal with me not wanting to talk to him. It's not like he could do anything about it.

"Avoiding someone?"

"_Holy fucking shit!_' I just about jumped out of my fucking skin as Alice appeared out of nowhere and sat down next to me at the table. I grasped at my heart, breathing heavily and hoping no one had seen my freak-out. As it was, the idiots at the next table had all vacated, probably deciding that Alice and I together was a fucking health risk.

"Motherfucking Christ, Alice," I panted. "What the fuck? Ever heard of making your presence known before scaring the fucking shit out of people? Like, you know, a fucking grunt? What the fuck?"

"Nice to know that you enjoy my company_ so much_," she sighed, tugging at a piece of her dark hair.

"Oh, don't give me that shit," I growled. "I've had enough of that crap today, and I don't need any more from you."

Alice and I had seemed to form an understanding at some point. She doesn't ask about my shit, and I don't ask about hers. It was working out fine for both of us so far, especially since it meant she wouldn't ask too many questions.

I noticed an apricot in her hands as she fidgeted, rolling it back and forth between her palms. She brought the apricot to her lips, teeth biting into the soft, supple flesh of the fruit. Her mouth pulled the bite past her lips and I stared as she chewed it, swallowing and licking the remaining juice on her lips off with her pink tongue.

Hot Damn. If that wasn't the sexiest thing I had ever seen, then I didn't know what was.

"Bella?"

I was brought back to reality with a jolt.

"What?" I asked, looking around quickly and hoping Alice hadn't noticed my complete lack of attention. I highly doubted that she didn't, but it was always nice to hope for it anyway.

"I was asking if you wanted to work on our project after school today." Her tone was sharp, but the smile she let slip after ruined the effect. She bit her lip just like she did in art yesterday and my stomach fluttered. She had the tiniest little scar under her bottom lip, even paler than her already ghostly skin, almost the color of the moon, with that inner glow that the moon had, too. I wouldn't have seen it otherwise, and it disappeared as she let her lip escape from between her teeth. I found myself wondering how she had gotten it.

Her eyes were staring at me expectantly, and I remembered that she had asked me a question. "Oh, uh," I stuttered, flushing as I tried to set aside the thoughts of her lips. "I don't know," I muttered slowly, hesitant. At her fallen face, I quickly elaborated, "I mean, Charlie and—" I didn't know how to finish. Thankfully, Alice did for me.

"You want to spend time with him, right?" She seemed glum, and guilt immediately welled in my chest as a picture of her own father flashed through my mind and the fact that she didn't have a parent that gave a damn about her. I may not have known Charlie that well, if at all, but at least he had shown me that he cared what the hell happened to me.

"Well," I struggled for the words that could fix this, "sort of, it's just, well…Charlie wanted to 'hang out' tonight. I'm not entirely sure what that means, and he said that was exactly why we had to do it." Alice laughed at my serious tone, as if I was joking. It was glorious.

Her white teeth glimmered in the awful florescent lighting of the lunch room, and I wondered how on Earth she was the only person who didn't look like they had just crawled out of a grave under these lights. Her head tipped back and I could see the roof of her mouth for the briefest of moments before she stuck her tongue between her teeth, smiling, and looked back at me. Running a hand across her red-streaked bangs, she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear before addressing me.

"You're too cute," she laughed, smiling widely.

My stomach did that flipping thing and my chest felt like someone was squeezing it. I couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry," I blundered, standing abruptly. My chair screeched unpleasantly against the linoleum floor and I winced at the sound, feeling as if every set of eyes had turned to look at me. I hastily grabbed my bag, turning around and uttering, "I-I, I have to go." And then I left, gracelessly bumping my hip on the corner of the chair as I fled, swearing and rubbing my throbbing hipbone. It was just too much for me, and I felt confused, bewildered, and I just needed to wrap my head around what all of this meant.

I had never felt so confused in my life. Before I came here, I knew who I was and I had a place in the world, my world. I was Bella the Bitch, Bella the Hated, Bella the Lonely, but more importantly, I was Bella of the Volturi. And, lately, I was feeling more and more like I was losing those parts of myself. Sure, people still hated me, I was still lonely a lot of the time, and I was still a bitch most of the time, but I was identifying with that less and less, and that bothered the hell out of me. Fuck, I was even starting to wonder if I had a place within the Volturi anymore.

And, of course, I would always have that place, I had been reassured several times that I would always have that place, but I was starting to question whether I would be respected there again, if I had ever been respected. Surely I was a force to be reckoned with, and I deserved the respect, but there was something inside me, nagging, telling me different. My ties to the Volturi were coming more and more undone the longer I stayed and the one person who shouldn't be able to see past my walls and attitude did, and I just couldn't handle that right now.

Alice wasn't using me, like almost everyone else tried to do, and that threw me off. She never did anything I expected her to do, never acted the way I wanted her to. She was friendly one moment and cruel the next, and I just didn't know what to think. It didn't help that I couldn't think clearly in the first place when she was around, and I couldn't trust myself to know what all this meant. I just didn't know what to believe anymore. It had all changed by simply coming to this dismal town.

My stomach flip-flopped again at just the thought of her and her lovely smile.

Why was this happening to me? _What_ was happening to me?

Digging around in my jacket pocket, I pulled out a cigarette and fumbled with the lighter, my thumb scrapping against the gear until it finally lit, and I took a deep inhale through the stick.

This would all be so much easier to understand if I knew her intentions. What did she want from me? I couldn't imagine what I could give her.

XXX

In Art, Alice simply gave me a strange look before continuing to draw my portrait. No words were exchanged and I spent the period trying to decipher what that look meant.

XXX

Charlie and I "bonded" over American football for a few hours that evening (a very strange sport that I did not see the point of, as it was definitely not as exciting as the football that we played back in Italy). I was almost relieved when Charlie was called back to the station. He wouldn't tell me why, and I couldn't imagine what could happen in this little town that was bigger than a speeding ticket.

That left me alone in the house and, about twenty minutes after he left, I decided that I should go to bed and at least try to sleep. It was so fucking cold in the house that I put on a pair of thick, wooly socks, a thermal, and a pair of sweatpants, crawling into my bed like some pathetic, sniveling creature and turning on the heated mattress pad Charlie had been gracious enough to buy for me once he had figured out I wasn't use to anything colder than about fifty degrees Fahrenheit.

I lay for awhile under the heavy layer of blankets, shivering. It was practically freezing outside, which meant my room was about ten degrees colder. I couldn't understand why, and had never had to live in cold weather like this before. Italy was a generally warm, sunny place, and Forks was a shock to my system. I wasn't built for this type of weather—I didn't have the immunity that everyone else seemed to have—nor did I know where to locate the switch for the heater, let alone how to operate it once I did manage to stumble upon it. Knowing my luck, I would mix up my Celsius to Fahrenheit conversion and, possibly, blow the damn thing sky high.

It finally became too much and I got up, whimpering slightly as the cool air bit at the exposed parts of my body. I shuffled quickly over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of rarely used knitted gloves and a matching cap. I then rolled back into my bed, pulling the blankets back over myself hastily. It still wasn't enough though, and eventually the cold became too much and I forced myself out of bed again and shuffled to Charlie's bedroom. I knew he wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of his numerous hooded sweatshirts, as I didn't really own anything like that, and grabbed the thickest looking one in his closet, which happened to have "SEAWORLD" printed along the back of it. I vaguely remembered going there with him when I was little, and pulled on the jacket, immediately feeling much warmer than before as I scuttled back bed. I knew that Aro would laugh his ass off if he saw me in all this, but _he_ wasn't being forced to live in this icebox.

It was actually kind of painful as my hands started to thaw, and an hour later I was finally warm enough to fall asleep. As I drifted, I absentmindedly wished I had a ski mask to cover my nose, but I wasn't quite sure how to go about getting one.

XXX

Alice picked me up again Friday morning, even earlier than the day before, but this time I was ready for her. I even had time to put some salve on the goodbye present from Giorgio before she got there. I was starting to become a little concerned, as the wound was beginning to look a bit infected. I just hoped that it would go away on its own, so I wouldn't have to go to a doctor, who would make a mess of things that I would have to painstakingly clean up if I ever wanted to go back to Italy.

Something that I thought resembled disappointment flickered across Alice's face as I opened the door, fully dressed and ready to go, but it was gone too quickly for me to know for sure. As we left the house, I looked at her face. Something about it was different, and as I examined it while she pulled out of my driveway, I realized that her face looked a little swollen. Her eye makeup also looked darker than usual, and I wondered to myself if Charlie getting called out last night was related to it in any way. I quickly brushed those thoughts away. I would not speculate or pry into Alice's life. It was hers and hers alone, and she had respected my privacy so far.

Once we were on the road, she turned up the volume on her radio. The music pounded through the car, and something about it made my heart race and clench at the same time.

"You like Nirvana?" Alice asked while still staring at the road. I hadn't even realized that I was tapping my foot to it, my fingers twitching on my thigh as the beats reverberated through me.

"Nair – what?" I asked intelligently.

"_Nir_vana, not '_Nair_' like the hair removing stuff. '_Ner_,' like…_nerd_, without the _d_." I wanted to hide as I realized how stupid I must have sounded. Pay attention, Bella.

Her explanation made no sense whatsoever, but I did admit to her that I liked the beat. Alice turned the volume almost impossibly louder and rolled down the Volvo's windows so that the rest of the town could enjoy the rasping yet appealing voice as it blared from the speakers.

After awhile we pulled up to the school, and I thought I heard Alice mumble, "I _still_ can't believe you've never heard of _Nirvana_. You must have been raised under a rock."

XXX

Although we had Gym together right before lunch, I didn't see her in class and I wondered briefly, again, if it was linked to her overly dark makeup. She reappeared at lunch and sat with me again, though she hadn't so much as spoke to me once after we arrived at school.

As she sat next to me, bantering about random things, most of which I couldn't follow, I saw something in her eyes. I was still confused over what all of this meant, everything I was feeling and how we had so suddenly…I didn't even know what to call it. But as I saw that thing in her eyes, that…light, and I couldn't help but think that coming to Forks was the best thing that had happened to me so far. I was away from Giorgio, away from Renee, and with a parent who actually seemed to give a shit about me. I also had someone now, who seemed to care, who seemed to _want_ to be near me. I didn't know exactly what to call her, was she a friend? I had never had one before, as Aro and I weren't really friends, so I wasn't sure. Whatever she was, Alice was amazing. Even though she made me feel more confused with each time I saw her, she was amazing.

And wasn't that really all that mattered?

XXX

After school, I got into the Volvo with Alice and she drove to my house so we could finish up her part of the project. I still hadn't seen Alice's sketch yet, and I was slightly nervous. How had she drawn me? Casual? Deep in thought? No one had ever drawn me before, and it somehow felt like I was baring myself to the world, even though it wasn't even my work. But it was me. It was me, and I felt…uncomfortable. However she decided to draw me, it would be a part of my soul that was going to be revealed to everyone in our mediocre Art class, and I had a feeling that it would not be the ass-kicking part that I wanted people to see.

I led her upstairs to my room, opening the door once I reached it and walking in. She hesitated in the doorway, even though she had seen it before, looking at what had become my life for the next few months that I was forced to stay here. The various paintings and sketches I had completed since arriving were still posted on the walls, and I shifted from foot to foot, slightly uneasy as she surveyed them with a completely blank face, as if absorbing them one by one. I stood at the end of my bed, directly in front of the door, and turned to face her.

"Well, do come in," I said, sweeping my arm around like my room was on show. "You're not a vampire, are you?" She laughed at my lame attempt at a joke, even though it wasn't that funny, and stepped over the threshold. She set her bag down and spun herself into my desk chair. It was surreal—Alice Masen was in my room, and although she had seen it yesterday, this time was different. I felt…naked.

"Okay," she started, cutting to the chase. "We should get started." She bent down to retrieve her sketch pad and I saw the briefest glimpse of her round, perky breasts as she leaned over. I jerked my head away, not wanting to violate her body with my curious gaze. Once she straightened again, I looked back over at her.

"How—how do you want to do this?" I asked, not entirely sure what to do. I felt more than awkward every time we did this.

"Just like last time—why don't you work on something? You're always so nervous, just relax." She smiled reassuringly and I nodded, grabbing my math homework from my bag and sitting down on my bed, cross-legged. I began hammering out the problems, trying desperately to understand the complex worksheet Mr. Varner decided to curse me with today.

Eventually I sighed, tucking my hair behind my ear, and looked up. I was completely stumped, and Alice met my gaze when she noticed I was no longer hunched over. "What's wrong?" she questioned, closing her pad and unfolding herself from my desk chair.

"Oh, I just don't understand these problems—" I huffed, feeling embarrassed and a little mad that I was struggling with this so fucking much. I hadn't had a mathematics class in ages, and it wasn't fresh in my mind like it was for everyone else.

She sat down next to me on the bed, looking over my shoulder to see what was going on. "Oh, that's easy," she said casually, taking the pencil from my hand to write in the book on my lap. I jumped slightly as her fingers brushed against mine and her body pressed against me. "You know how to do this, just distribute the negative and—" she continued to direct me, but I didn't hear her. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her face, her hair, her eyes, as she explained this supposedly "easy" problem.

She straightened suddenly, and I realized she had finished her explanation of how to solve the problem. I looked back down at the paper and her slightly sloppy notes on the page. When I looked up our noses were almost touching.

Alice's eyes were swirling clouds of the palest green. They were much too close, filling my vision. I felt dizzy.

Why had I invited her over, again?

Oh, because today was Friday, and she still needed to finish drawing my portrait so that I could have hers done by Tuesday.

She was getting closer, her breath hot on my face, and I couldn't move away.

Fuck.


End file.
